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THE LIFE AND CHARACTER 

OF 

CAPT. ¥1. B. ALLEN, 

OF LA'WRENCE COUNTY, TENN., 

Who fell at the Storming of Monterey y on the 2lst of 
September^ 1846. 

WITH AN APPENDIX, 

COKTAINING A NUMBER OF HIS 

ESSAYS AND SPEECHES. 



Mf W. P. ROWFiESj JGscj 



COLUMBIA, TENN., 
J. J. m'daniil, "democratic herald" book office. 

1853. 



.A 



7 



PREFACE. 



The Sketch of the Life and Character of Capt. Wm. 
B. Allen, was undertaken by his devoted friend, Dr. 
W. P. IlowLES. When he had proceeded in the work 
nearly to its completion, his progress was arrested by 
the hand of Death. He was a gentleman of ver)^ high 
literary attainments, and admirably qualified for the task 
he had assumed. Afcer his death, the subscriber was 
applied to as a known friend and admirer of Capt. 
Allen, to finish the Sketch so ably begun. He was 
diffident of his ability to do justice to the subject, but 
as an evidence of the sincerity with which he cherished 
the memory of his deceased friend, he did not hesitate 
to consent. 

It is not to be expected that the hfe of one so young 
as was Capt. Allen, would abound in events of interest, 
and yet the reader will be surprised to find in these pages 
so much interesting and instructive materials. The 
work will commend itself especially to the young men of 
the country; and by a careful study of the character of 
Capt. Allen, much profit may be derived. 

A. 0. P. NICHOLSON. 

Columbia^ Ten7i.,' Mi: 27. 1851. 



6 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

gone days, would have established the fame, and made 
the fortune of thousands, seem but common things. 
Within the life-time of the present generation, lofty 
forests, where savage men disputed with savage beasts 
for the supremacy, have been changed into fruitful fields, 
which afford their cultivators an abundance, and enable 
them to feed with their surplus, the starving thousands 
of the old world. The lonely cabbins of solitary hunt- 
ers, whose inmates were doomed to keep incessant watch 
over them against the fire-brands of the savages, or in- 
roads of, wild beasts, have been replaced by populous 
cities— the seats of empire, commerce and science, 
whene^'the light and heat of civil and religious freedom 
attract all nations, and warm and enlighten all who ap- 
proach. The blood-besmeared war-paths of the abori- 
gines are the sites of turnpikes and raii-roads, along 
which, instead of pinioned bands of doomed victims, 
pass a busy throng of happy freemen. The limpid riv- 
ers and broad lakes, 'solately hid in the bosom of tangled 
forests, are noW the delightful thoroughfares of enlight- 
ened nations. In?terd of the sparse' and' ^cattere'd scores 
who stood over the vfildern'ess waste, like sentinels to 
guard its solitude, there have sprung up thous?ands upon 
thbusahds; ivhose structTirfes, physical and'mbral, demon- 
strate the presence and progress bf wealth, freedom, sci- 
ence' arid pbwer. In the mi'dst of such a ]jeoplc, inhab- 
iting such ■ a, c"ountry, cornmon-place events or common- 
place m'en command little attention. 'But when some 
hitherto uhnbticed ybhth; a~ citizten,' 4t may b'e,' 'cf* sbrae 
rural district, unknown and uncared for, by his superior 
attainments,' shining qualities or bold achieverhents, at- 
tracts all eyes, en<TaQfes -^11 hearts, thrusts hiniseiif, or is 
thrust upon the stage of action, pushes aside and passes 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 7 

by his seniors, and still rushes forward, leaving tliem 
far behind him, the philosophical student of man wishes 
to know the means and methods which have given such 
astounding results. Biography is written to gratify this 
wish. And perhaps there is no portion of history so rich 
in useful, pleasing instruction, as the lives of the good 
and wise of our race, especially of our own citizens. — 
What patriot does not delight to contemplate the pro- 
gress through life, of our Washingtons, Franklins, Jei- 
fersons, Clays, Jacksons, Adamses, Polks, and all that 
bold band of heroes and statesmen who laid the founda- 
tion of our political fabric, or have given it renown by 
their talents and virtues? It was not alone the mother 
of Washington, or father of Adams who exulted in the 
works and worth of their sons. The same joyful emo- 
tions they felt as parents, vibrated in the hearts of the 
lovers of freedom in all lands. V/herever human speech 
and letters are known, in every clime, under every form 
of government, freedom has, and will ever have, an al- 
tar, on which the God of Liberty finds a daily sacriiice. 
Those who now toil around the fields of Marathon, 
and look over the dreary landscape from the the clifis of 
Octae, once the battle-field of liberty, may mourn to be- 
hold the change of fruitful fields and populous cities, the 
seats of commerce and science, into a vast arena of silent, 
desolate sterility; but, surrounded by their ruined cities, 
desolate harbors and barren fields, they feel a joy un- 
known to the oppressors, when they remember that far 
over the green wave of the ocean, there is a fruitful land 
inhabited by a race of freemen, v^'ho delight to emulate 
the noble deeds of their departed heroes, whose story 
and example serve to rally brave soldiers to the tented 
field, v/hose orations and poems are the examplers held 



8 LIFE AKD CHARACTER OF 

up to stimulate and guide the progress of Oratory and 
Song, wherever science is cultivated. 

Although the Jew, Egyptian, Assyrian, Persian, 
Greek and Roman, their empires, and almost the story 
of their wars, have passed away into the regions of for- 
getfulness, and many of their marts of commerce and 
the havens in which their numerous navies rode, have 
ceased to be the abode of man, the memory of particu- 
lar individuals, whose talents or virtues commanded the 
respect and confidence of their contemporaries, continue 
to be esteemed to this day, and some of their works still 
retain a conspicuous place in our libraries. The heroes 
of Homer are the admiration of all readers, who delight 
themselves with the minute descriptions of the great 
actions they performed, although the very fields of their 
achievements, as well as the residence of their chroni- 
clers, are a problem involved in doubt and mists impene- 
trable. Under what monarch, in what kingdom, JEsop 
or Homer were born, by what wars or works of art their 
unknown rulers distinguished themselves, history saith 
not. Yet their posterity have handed down to us the 
charming productions of genius and taste, the labors of 
single, perhaps unknown and friendless men, now the 
only persons of their race and time, of whose acts and 
doings any thing is known. While the names of Augus- 
tus or Claudius are seldom named or thought of, but 
with execration, the names of Virgil or Longinus are 
never named but with affectionate respect and admira- 
tion. Such, and so strong is the superior interest felt by 
mankind in personal narrative. 

Among the public men now on the stage of action, and 
contemporary with the subject of these sheets, few, if 
any, had better used their opportunities; none entered 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 9 

the great arena of life "with fairer hopes of a distinguished 
career of usefulness. Young as he was, and brief as 
was his stay on earth, he performed acts and established 
claims to a distinguished position in the brilliant history 
of his native State. 

William Bethel Allen was the eldest son of Gener- 
al Kichard 11. Allen, and Mary F. (the daughter of 
William Mayfield, Esq.) He was born in Giles county, 
Tennessee, on the 16th day of January, 1824, and re- 
sided there, with his parents, until he was twelve years 
of age, when they removed to Lawrence county, where 
they still remain. 

In selecting a teacher to whom he might commit his 
son, General Allen was fortunate in being able to avail 
himself of the services of William W. Potter, Esq., then 
and now, a respectable citizen of Giles county. This 
able and popular instructor of youth established a school 
near his present residence, Halidon Hill, in a charming 
rural situation, in 1839, and has continued it to the pre- 
sent time. Seated on an elevated position, overlooking 
a large extent of fruitful lands, partly covered with pri- 
mitive forest trees, and partly under the thrifty culture 
of his early friends, our student enjoyed excellent oppor- 
tunities to drink deep from the rich fountains of nature's 
purity, and to fill his heart with the lofty conceptions 
which the charming scenery, amidst which he studied, 
was suited to inspire any one having a spark of genius, 
or of taste for the sublime and beautiful. There, on the 
ajicient seat of one of the aboriginal lords of the soil, 
who, having finished his mission among the living, has 
departed to the spirit-land, leaving to others the enjoy- 
ment of the blessings and beauties that surrounded his 
domicile, young Allen became a student. The same 



10 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

wood-land songs still announce the return of Spring; 
the same majestic trees give a home and food to the 
joyous songsters; the same gushing springs and purling 
rills still glitter in the sun, and spread their refieshing 
moisture over the plains; the same stars overlook the 
night, and herald the lapse of time; and still all the 
splendid grandeur that inspired the Indian with love for 
his home, the same rich rewards to the faithful cultiva- 
tor of the soil, make the spot a pleasant abode to his 
civilized successors. 

«?Au large number of the young men of Giles and the 
adjacent counties, and many from more distant parts, 
owe their education to Mr. Potter. Being a man of 
sterling integrity, sound sense and correct morals, com- 
bined with pre-eminent tact, talent and taste, for his ar- 
duous calling, he, now, in the dechne of a long life de- 
voted to the honorable and useful pursuit of starting 
youth upon their journey of fame and usefulness, has 
the pleasing satisfaction of seeing around him, many 
who derived from his counsels and example, their valu- 
able literary attainments, and correct opinions and habits. 
Among his numerous pupils, few, if any, seem to have 
deserved or enjoyed more of liis sincere regard than 
young Allen. 

After the deatli of his pupil, the heart of the early 
friend and teacher grieved as David for Jonathan.— 
Sympathising as deeply with the bereaved parents in 
their loss of a son, as dear to him as to them, he had 
rejoiced as sincerely as they did, at the early promise of 
usefulness and honorable fruits, from his unseen but 
anxious efforts to mould his pupil for an eminent position 
among his peers. He saw his expectations overruled by 
an afflicting dispensation of Him to whose teachings he 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN 11 

bowed himself, and taiiglit others to submit, with rever- 
ence. Yet feehng it to be the duty of one standing in 
his relation to the living and the dead, the venerable 
teacher, with a hand trembling with age and agitation, 
and a heart overflowing with grief, wrote a letter of con- 
dolence to his bereaved friend. This letter is a model of 
true tenderness, and genuine eloquence of sorrow. It 
will favorably introduce to the reader, the future leader 
of a band of heroes, as an obedient and assiduous school- 
boy. It is as follows: — 



Giles County, Tenn., ) 
April 15th, 1847. f 
Dear General: — However unwilling I may be to add 
another pang to the accumulated vroes visited upon you 
and your afflicted family, on account of the premature 
death of your son, Capt. Wm. B. Allen, who fell at the 
seige of Monterey, yet I cannot let the occasion pass, 
without violence to my own sense of duty, till I attempt 
to set forth some of the prominent characteristics and 
moral qualities of that ill-fated young man. And this I 
more cheerfully do, on account of the relation in which I 
stood to him, prior to the conspicuous and commanding 
attitude he had assumed before the public in the morn- 
ing of life. It is well Imown to you that j^oung Allen 
commenced his preparatory studies for College at Hali- 
don Hill Academy, of which the subscrrber was Princi- 
pal. He had hardly entered the threshliold of the Insti- 
tution, and taken a cursory and imperfect survey of the 
great field of science spread out before him, till his soul 
became fired with a zeal, with an ardour and unyielding 
determination to reap its rewards and share its blessings, 
seldom found, and perhaps never excelled, by any youth 



12 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

of his age. And, sir, I pay him but an ordinary com- 
pliment, when I assure you, that his progress was as 
rapid as his ardour had been enthusiastic and vehement. 
Among the regulations of the Institution, weekly exer- 
cises in composition an^ declamation, were required of 
the older and more advanced students; and periodically, 
oriu-inal addresses before the public. In these exercises, 
ever prompt and efficient, he soon became the champion 
of the school, and the delight of the neighborhood. So 
cireat were his zest and interest in these exhibitions, that 
he organized a Debating Club for the mutual benefit of 
himself and fellow-students, in which he became, at 
once, a bold and leading member. And here I may re- 
mark, Wm. B. Allen studied the rudiments, and laid the 
foundation of that forcible and thrilling eloquence that 
subsequently electrified the multitude, and commanded 
the attention of the Tennessee Legislature. 

From these youthful beginnings and promising fore- 
bodings, we might easily anticipate the succes and dis- 
tinctions that awaited him on the great theatre of human 
action, had he been permitted, by the dispensation of 
I'rovidence, to have acted out the part so nobly begun. 
But I turn from these recollection's hopes, "sweet and 
mournful to the soul," to notice those ennobling traits 
that adorned him more than all — I mean the qualities of 
the heart. In his kind and amiable deportment, noble 
and dignified bearing to his fellow-students; by his re- 
spect to his preceptor, as well as to age and experience; 
by his modesty and retirement on all appropriate occa- 
sions, and bold and prompt exhibitions when circum- 
stances demanded them, he rendered himself not only a 
peculiar favorite amon^his class-mates, but also a valu- 
able companion among the multitude in which he min- 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 13 

gled. Strictly honest and conscientious in all his motives, 
he naturally infused this noble and God-like spirit into 
all his associations. And in riper years, these qualities, 
so attractive and commanding, did not fail to secure the 
respect and friendship of all who were fortunate enough 
to share his acquaintance. If parents are responsible 
for the implantation of virtues or vices into the breasts 
of their offspring, the father and mother of William B. 
Allen may rejoice, even in their tears, conscious of hav- 
ing discharged their duty to their son. But these tro- 
phies of integrity and virtue had their origin, not so 
much in parental discipline and instruction, as in the im- 
mutable truths of Revelation. He had often conversed 
with the subscriber upon the validity, divinity and holy 
tenor of the Scriptures, and expressed his entire and un- 
equivocal assent to their efficacy and truth, remarking 
that everything valuable in human institutions was 
drawn from its sacred precepts. I believe the Gospel, 
says he, to be the " power of God unto salvation" — and 
to secure an eternity of happiness hereafter, the injunc- 
tions of the Bible must be complied with, be human 
siacrifices what they might. These convictions, honestly 
entertained and profoundly cherished, resulted in his 
.spiritual conversion, and accession to the church of his 
choice. 

And in after times, when the partiality of his friends 
called him to the "political field," a theatre, I believe, 
little congenial to his heart, or to his spiritual interest; 
amidst all the strifes and irritations attendant upon a 
heated canvass, not one word, not one passage, escaped 
his lips, his friends could wish otherwise, or that did not 
strictly comport with his religious profession. 



14 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

After terminating his noviciate at the Academy, he 
became a member of Nashville University, under the 
presidency of the learned and venerable Dr. Lindsley. — 
Here the same devotion to letters, the same untiring in- 
dustry, the same amiable deportment that characterized 
his more youthful days, still prompted his manly soul to 
obtain that distinction among his new literary associates, 
which, at the close of his collegiate course, he so nobly 
won. I cannot refrain from adverting in this place, to 
the high and worthy compliment paid him by the learned 
Pi^fessor Cross, who had been one of his teachers while 
residing in the Nashville University. In his Annual 
Address to the Societies in 1847, the Professor, having 
noticed the death of other Alumni, in a note to his ad- 
dress, pays him a just and honorable compliment.* 



"* Since this Address was delivered, intelligence lias been re- 
ceived of the srvnguinary but successful battle of Monterey. — 
Among tlie gallant men that stormed this strongly fortified 
citj'', none were more distinguislied or suffered more, than the 
A^olnnteers from Tennessee; and among those that fell, no one 
has been more lamented than the young, the talented and chi- 
valrous Captain William B. Allen. This excellent young 
man graduated in 1844, having been connected with the Uni 
varsity three years, during which period he secured the entire 
confidence and highest esteem of the Faculty and Students. — 
During the excited canvass that preceded the late Presidential 
election, (in 1844,) having already acquired considerable repu^ 
tation for eloquence, he was called upon at a political meeting, 
according to the usage of the day, to deliver an Address, and, 
under the excitement of the moment, yielded to the solicita- 
tion. Being admonished that ptirty politics were incompati- 
ble with his duty to the University, with characteristic ingenu 
ousness, he acknowledged his error and asked forgiveness — 
thus showing that he knew how to obey, as his patriotic deatli 
evinced that during his brief military career, he had learned to 
command. With this exception — in a young man under suclx 
influences, perliaps viiium propius virtutem — he was uniformly 
the example and advocate of every thing that is lovely and of 
good report. In a few weeks after he graduated, he was elected 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 15 

After receiving the distinctions due to liis scholarship, 
and obtaining his diploma, he bid adieu to the lovely 
and thrilling scenes of College life, and to that Hall that 
often echoed to his voice, when, in stern debate, he 
measured strength with his literary brotherhood, lie 
returned to his father's residence, to share the smiles 
and greetings of fond and doating parents. 

But he returned not as many do, with the uncourtly, 
forbidding air of self-superiority, arising from a con- 
sciousness of pecuniary or literary advantages over his 
less favored associates; but Vv'ith the same modest, fa- 
miliar demeanor with which he was w^ont to meet them 
on the village-green, or at the humble school-house. He 
could grasp with equal zest and sincerity, the hand of 
the whistling mill-boy, the sturdy teamster or the high 
official functionar)^ He was permitted to remain at 
home little longer than to exchange salutations with his 
friends, before he was summoned to take the field as a 
candidate for a seat in the Legislature of his native 
State. Though, by his age, just eligible, his friends so 



to the Legislature of Tennessee;, (from Lawrence County, where 
he had resided since he was twelve years old,) and where his 
talents, notwithstanding his youth, placed hiiu amoisg the first 
and most useful members of tliat body. 

When the call for troops from Tenuessee was received, he 
volunteered, in a company raised and commanded by Captain 
Alfred S. Alexander, as a private, and proceeded to the banks 
of the Rio Grande. Captain Alexander having resigned his 
command at Camargo, young Allen was chosen to succeed him, 
and in this capacity proceeded with General Taylor to Monte- 
rey, where, on the morning of the 21st of September, he was 
struck by a bail in the breast, as he was advancing with his 
Company, in the van of the Tennessee Regiment, to storm the 
First Fort in the North-east corner of the city. Thus fell this 
noble youth, wlicn he had scarcely yet attained his twenty - 
third year, and thus early clo*sed his career, which had opened 
with such bright prospects of usefulness and distinction." 



16 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

enthusiastically rallied to his support, that he was, after 
a close contest, elected over an old, well-tried and popu- 
lar member, "^ who had acquired the reputation of a most 
useful and experienced legislator. Of the stand he 
maintained in the General Assembly, as well as his in- 
tellectual exhibitions before that honorable body, I need 
not speak; these things have been long since portrayed 
by a hundred pens, and spread out before the world as 
part of its history. We pass them by, with the solitary 
remark, that, notwithstanding his youth, he was ranked 
amonof the able advocates and talented members of that 
body. At the close of the session, he again returned to 
his friends and constituents, receivinc^ at their hands the 
rich reward of their entire approval of his legisla- 
tive services. He was not long permitted to remain in- 
active. New and different duties were about to be im- 
posed upon him. A war had broken out on our South- 
western frontier. The story of his country's wrongs 
aroused his youthful patriotism, and the thunders of the 
Mexican cannon summoned him to the battle-field. — • 
Volunteering as a private in that brave brotherhood, the 
Lawrenceburg Blues, he marched with them, little con- 
scious he was taking his last departure from home and 
kindred. Even in his humble station as a private, his 
worth became so highly appreciated, gradually augment- 
ing with the distance, that, scarcely had he stepped upon 
Mexican soil, till his Company called him to command 
them.f Here, perhaps, the native qualities of his heart 



* F. Buchanan, Esq., late Speaker of the House of Repre- 
sentatives. 

t This Company had been raised and commanded by Col. A. 
S. Alexander, some years before. When the course of events 



CAPT, WM. B. ALLEN- ^ 17 

shone more conspicuously than in any otlier situation 
he had heretofore occupied. By his official grade, en- 
titled to privileges and preferences over his subordinates, 
yet he never coveted them; and v.'hat is still more prais- 
worthy, he would never receive them. Disclaiming tho 
one and declining the other, he enjoyed only the com- 
mon soldier's fare. His tent was the soldier's home, his 
blanket his covering, his knapsack his pillow. He was 
honored, in the mean lime, by President Polk, with a 
high ofFicial station in the army, but such was the reluc- 
tance of his heroic band to part with him, that, with his 
characteristic modesty and fellow-feeling, he declined the 
proffered distinction, preferring to share the toils and en- 
dure the hardships of the camp with them. Week after 
week passed by with restless anxiety, each soldier, like 
the gallant young chieftan, chaffing at delay, and impa- 
tient to meet his country's foe. At lengtli the fatal day 
arrived. The declining sun gilded the distant spires of 
Monterey. There lay the enemy behind his batteries, 
forts and entrenchments. Soon tlie charge was sounded, 
and soon young Allen was seen, swori iu hand — with a 
sword, the gift of his fither, to whom he had vowed it 
should not be returned dishonored. Placed in the van 



began to indicate tho possibility of war, they had, in response 
to an Address by the author of these pages, on the 4th of July, 
1845, unaniniou.sly pledged themselves to march at the first 
call for Volunteers. Most nobly did they redeem that pledge. 
The same night the news of the call reached Lawrencebnrg, 
Col Alexander dispatched to Gov. A. V. Brown the tender of 
their services. Being accepted, they were first in the field, and 
foremost in the fight. At Monterey, out of fifty-six men on 
duty, on Se])tember 21st, 1846, twenty were put hors de ccm- 
bat. Of sixty-nine men that were mustered into service, only 
about lorty-four remain; twenty-five have laid down their lives 
on the altar of freedom and glory. 

B 



!;> LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

of the field, with firm and undaunted tread he boldlf 
led the way to the deadly breach. But alas! the enemy 
aim at him — too surely aim — and the cliivalrous youth 
falls! With a convulsive grasp he still holds his sword 
Lifting his dying eyes, to survey for the last time his 
shattered column, he exclaims, "Boys, /am dying, but 
charge the Fort!" Patriotism even in death! equaled 
only by the intrepid Captain Lawrence, who in the ago- 
nies of death, exclaimed ''Don't give up the Ship!" 

Thus lived and thus died Captain William B. Allen, % 
young man, when viewed in all the relations of life, who 
has shed a halo and radiance around his name so bright 
that the darkness of the tomb cannot hide it from admi- 
ration and esteem. Let the youth of our country, whose 
restless spirits pant to soar beyond and above the ordi- 
nary walks of life, learn to imitate the virtues and copy 
the example of this noble youth. 

Honor to his friends and countrymen! his bones are 
not left to bleach beneath a Mexican sun^, or be insulted 
by the sacrilegious foot of the servile and remorseless 
Spaniard. No! They now repose in tlie grove where 
he spent his childhood. And there they will remain, 
consecrated by a father's affections, and embalmed in a. 
mother's love! 

Your old friend, 

W. W, POTTER. 

Gen. Re H, Allen, 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEH. 19 



CHAPTER II. 

€apt. Allen's attachment to Lis Preceptor — His removal to the 
Nasliville University — President Lindsley's letter- — Allen's 
Address at Jackson Academy. 

The kindly sentiments of his teacher were fully and 
warmly reciprocated by young Allen. He ever spoke of 
Mr. Potter with affectionate respect, conceiving himself 
to owe that gentleman a large debt of gratitude for the 
parental solicitude with which his early thoughts were 
directed. A circumstance that does great honor to both 
parties, and shows the sincerity of their mutual regard, 
was, that, according to the straightest sects of their re- 
spective creed, they belonged to different political par- 
ties. Throughout the heated Presidential canvass of 
1840, the warm Gubernatorial contests in '41 and '43, 
and the still more excited Presidential contest of 1844, 
the teacher and his pupil, in their several manners, were 
found in the very foremost front of the opposing parties. 

Frequently meeting at the various places of public 
discussion or elsewhere, their hearts were closely united; 
they saw, the teacher only his promising pupil, the pu- 
pil only his kind and assiduous teacher. Their friend- 
ship was more sincere than that between Aristotle and 
Alexander, and as lasting as that of David and Jonathan. 
Whilst Allen lived, he looked on his kind-hearted teach- 
er as the friend of his youth, who had spread for him 
the delightful *'feast of reason," and taught him the 
"vray to truth, honor and happiness. On him the teacbtr 



20 LIFK AND CHARACTER OF 

looked, as Socrates looked on Plato, as "the champion 
of liis school, and the delight of the neighborhood." 

No wonder that the venerable man's recollections of 
such a pupil are "sweet and mournful to his soul." He 
had lioped from such early blossoms, to see at its matu- 
rity, a rich and rare fruit; the more beautiful to liim, 
from the honest labors he had long lavished upon it. — 
No wonder he tells his weeping- father that he still be- 
huMs the loved form of his favoiitc pupil, in spite of the 
''darkness of the tomb." No confederacy of vice or 
leaoue of pleasure bound their hearts together. Their 
fiieudship was pure and true; it was founded upon mu- 
tual esteem, the result of often tried worth. They 
loved because they knew each other, and their regard 
was lasting because founded on just conceptions. 

From the care of this estiemed teacher, Gen. Allen 
removed his son to the Nashville University. Here, 
from a more elivated position, his prospect was wider. — 
He had, easily and promptly, adapted himself to the 
circumstances around him at the school of Mr. Potter. — 
There, by his industrious perseverance in the path of 
duty, he had made himself the "champion of the school 
and delight of the neighborhood." Tiiis is high praise, 
and called on him for a further display of his splendid 
social qualities. Looking around him, he saw a bril- 
liant class of young men assembled from various parts 
of his native State, and the Souch-v/est generally. — 
Among them a number of ripe scholars, truly devoted 
to the life of a student. At the head of the College was 
the Rev. Philip Lindsley, a man grown grey in toiling 
for the cause in which he is engaged, whose long prac- 
tice and skill in the estimation of human character, en- 
abled hira, very soon, to give to every pupil his appro- 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN, * 2|S"' 

priate value. Associated willi him in the management 
of tliis tiourishini^ Instiiution, were a Faculty of learned 
men, as well skilled in their several departments as any 
in the country; furnished the means and having the will 
to make their College the seat of sound science. Here 
our young student soon learned the nature and extent of 
his labors, if he should maintain at Nashville, as at 
Ilalidon Hill, a just title to the highest regard of his 
fellow-students and teachers. That he early resolved to 
devote all his powers, mental and physical, to fuliil the 
hopes of his father, and the not less fondly cherished 
wishes of Mr. Potter. For, although Avithdrawn from 
his immediate care, his oil teacher did not lose sight of 
him. He kept a vigilant eye on his progress, and when, 
at the end of his Collegiate course, he received the hon- 
ors due to his assiduous studies, he rejoiced to see his 
fond pupil take his place, with favorable impressions, on 
the stage of action. The same integrity and urbanity 
that had distinguished the school-boy, had made him a 
favorite at College. The ardent devotion to the study 
of the primary branches of science, which won the es- 
teem of his early teacher, marked his course at College, 
and was attended with the same results. He secured 
the esteem of all with whom he was associated. There, 
as at the Academy of Halidon Hill, he showed that he 
possessed "superior intellectual abilities." The im- 
pression he made while resident at the University, will 
be better appreciated by the perusal of an extract from 
a letter of the Rev. President Lindsley to the writer.— 
He says: 

"I can probably add little or nothing of importance 
to the Biographical sketch of the late Captain William 
B, Allen, already prepared for pubhcation by his early 



2t UFl AIJD CHAEAOTSR OF 

friend and tutor.* I kaew him, cliiefly, as a student of 
the University of Nashville, and more intimately as a 
member of the Senior Class, during the last year of his 
College course. In this connexion, his conduct was not 
only correct, but in the highest degree exemplary and 
praiseworthy. Uniformly amiable, modest, courteous 
and respectful in his deportment, he won the esteem 
and confidence of his associates and teachers, to an ex- 
tent rarely, if ever, surpassed in similar circumstances. 
Sincere, honest, ingenuous, noble, brave, generous, he 
was always and everywhere honored and beloved.-^ — 
Such, indeed, was the sterling integrity of his character, 
that few would hesitate to regard it as the fruit of deep- 
rooted reli^-ious principle, imbibed under careful parent- 
al training by the domestic fireside. He was never 
known, as I am credibly informed, to manifest the 
slighest symptom of envy, jealousy, m.alice, anger, or 
resentment towards any human being. 

He possessed superior intellectual abilities, as well ag 
a vigorous physical constitution; a capacity and a deter- 
mination to acquire knowledge; and, of course, by dili- 
gent study and persevering application, he made rapid 
progress, and extraordinary proficiency in every depart- 
ment of science and literature taught in the College. 

Few young men have ever graduated with brighter 
prospects, or fairer promise of future eminence or use- 
fulness. As evidence of his worth, and of the estimation 
in which he was held by those who had witnessed his 
career from infancy to manhood, it may suffice to say, 
that in less than a year after graduating, he was chosen 



» Mr. Potter, 



CAPT, WM. B. ALLEN. 23 

hy his neighbors and fellow-citizens, as their Represent- 
ative in the General Assembly of the State. 

Of his subsequent public and official conduct, both 
eivil and military, I leave others, more competent judg- 
es, to furnish the requisite facts, and to pronounce the 
appropriate eulogium. 

PHILIP LINDSLEY." 

Nashville, Oct. 1847. 

Dr. Lindsley has long l^een placed in close contact 
with our collegiate population; is endowed wiih all the 
qualities of head and heart that qualify him to form a 
correct estimate of the mental and moral capacity of 
those who come under his charge. His opinion is, 
therefore, entitled to implicit reliance. Like Mr. Potter, 
he bears strong testimony to the high moral and mental 
capacity and acquirements of his pupil. And if Capt. 
Allen had left no other means than the recollections of 
his teachers, from which to delineate his character, the 
warmest wishes of his best and wisest friends could de- 
sire nothing more brilliant than the touching eulogy of 
Mr. Potter, and the no less feeling effusion from the 
graphic pen of Dr. Lindsley. These were his first and 
last instructors. Both knew and loved him well. 

During his collegiate course, Mr. Allen participated 
in all the exercises appointed for his grade of students, 
besides taking a leading part in the collateral means of 
improvement adopted by the students themselves. — 
Among those means, the debates and essays on assigned 
subjects were, as much more suited to his genius and 
taste, as fruitful in useful results. From a large mas« 
^f papers, neatly written and filed by him, a consider 



^4 LIFE AND CHARACTER 0^ 

able number of his essays, and several of his speeches,* 
will be presented to the reader, not as specimens of an 
assiduous student's exercises, as of thought and writing 
which manifest industrious research, correct taste, and 
genius of a high order. 

During a brief visit to his friends, in the month of 
October, 1843, tlie examination at the Jackson Acade- 
my, then under the care of Mr. J. W. Dana, came on. 
His younger brother, Samuel Houston Allen, afterwards 
his companion-in-arms in the war, was one of Mr. Da- 
na's 'pupils. That gentleman, with a taste and judg- 
ment not often surpassed in one of his years, invited our 
college student to be present at his examination, and to 
address the School, its trustees, and patrons. From the 
easy eloquence of his conversation, the learned precept- 
or rightly judged an address from him would be an 
agreeable finale to the sifting scrutiny of the closing ex- 
ercises of the session. The invitation was accepted, and 
on the next day, the young orator, far from his books 
and teachers, who might have afforded him some aid, 
on the 27th day of October, 1843, held a large audience 
m their seats, after a long siuting, wilh so much atten- 
tion and delight, that when he had closed liis address, 
they,not only manifested no signs of weariness or haste 
to be away, but gave repeated utterance of their satis- 
faction. The substance of his address, hastily recorded 
in his diary of that date, is as follows: 

" Ladies and Gentlemen — I rise to address you un- 
der circumstances peculiarly interesting. Indeed, such 
a scene as we have just witnessed, can never be without 



» See Appendix for Speeches and Essays. 



CAFT. WM. B. ALLEN. 2i!> 

incalculable interest to all the votaries of learning. To 
witness the performances of youth contending for the 
maslerv in letters; to observe the rapid and gigantic ad- 
vancements they have made in the expansion of vigor- 
ous intellect, and the acquisition of useful knowledge, 
can never fail to be an object worthy of attention. Ours 
is, emphatically, an age of improvement. In the lan- 
guage of Henry Lord Brougham,' *Mhe scboel-master is 
abroad in the land." Every parent is desirous of giv- 
incr his children what is termed a liberal education. For 
this, he is willing to do himself a pecuniary injury. — 
This will never be a cause of regret with hira. The 
destiny of the youth— the nation's pri le and boast — de- 
pends upon their proper training, both intellectually and 
morally. 

" 'Tis granted, and no plainer truth appears. 
Our most iuiportaut are oiiv earliest years; 
The mind, impressible and soft, with ease 
Imbibes and copies what she hears and sees, 
And through life's labyrinth holds fast the clew 
That education gives her, false or true." 

Every man, however humble his birth, and limited his 
circumstances, should endeavor, as far as he is able, to 
educate his sons and daughters, and inculcate into their 
youthful minds sound moral principles. This is the 
teacher's arduous, pleasing duty. 

"Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, 
To teach the young idea how to shoot, 
To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind. 
To hreathe the enlivening spirit, and to fix 
The generous purpose in the breast." 

Our object Avill be, Frst, To encourage parents to be 
more zealous in promoting the cause of education. 



Xb LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

S<3condly, To stimulate the youth to a manly exertion, 
and hold out inducements for them to be more vigilant 
and active in securing those treasures, wiiich are calcu- 
lated, in time to come, to invest their names with a hale 
of immortality. 

The time has been, when fathers would toil diligent- 
ly, and labor perse veringly, to accumulate wealth for 
their children, that they might "roll in luxury and shine 
in jewels," when little or no attention was paid to the 
improvement of the mind. Men were then, in the strict 
sense of the word, utilitarians. Perhaps the times m 
which they lived required them to act as they did. — 
Genius was to rise, if it rose at all, in rags. Patrons of 
learning were few in number. The wealth of the Indies 
was more dreamed of than an Augustan age of liter- 
ature. Scarcely did one sickly, glimmering ray of light 
from the hallowed regions of Parnassus dawn upon the 
mind. From such a picture, the enlightened mind turns 
away in disgust. 

Men have grown wiser. They are beginning to learn 
that riches often take wings and fly away. It is now 
conceded, that the richest legacy man can leave his 
children, is a good education. Public opinion has been 
partially changed for the better, but is not yet entirely 
as it should be. Men are beginning to offer their hoard- 
ed treasures in exchange for the treasures of knowledge. 
Legislative enactments have contributed to a more gen- 
eral diffusion of knowledge, especially among the poorer 
classes. The system of public schools has for its object 
noble and well defined purposes. It says to the poor 
man, send your children to school, and let them be in- 
structed, at least, in the elementary branches of educa- 
tion. For a neglect of this duty or privilege, there is 



CAPT. WM. 3. ALLEN, 27 

not the shade of plausible excuse. He may not be able 
to give them a liberal education, but he has the means 
to give them a limited one. Educate them, and they 
will be objects worthy of your pride and consolation in 
your declining years. Remember, that knowledge, like 
virtue, has its own reward; that tyranny and iron-handed 
despotism recede before the lights of science. A gov- 
ernment can only be permanently based on the virtue 
and intelligence of the people. A source of encourage- 
ment to the youth is, that the present legisla-tors, whoso 
views of progress are moulded on the past, are passing 
off the stage of action, and their places are to be filled 
by others. Our country calls upon the youth to quali- 
fy hims€lf, for he will soon be called into her service. — 
She never singles out one of illustrious birth or rich in- 
heritance, to do her honor. She points to the youth with 
merit, with, perhaps, not a single farthing in his pocket; 
stamps her signet-seal of confidence on his brow, and 
claims him as her own. Wealth commends no one to her 
favor. She invites every one, pressingly, to come to her 
hallowed altar, and inscribe their names upon the roll of 
eternal fame. Before their visions she spreads out her 
richest treasures and priceless enjoyments. She poinU 
to them in exultation and delight, and exclaims with 
Commodore Perry, "Our sons, they are the property of 
our country." 

Every parent is conjured by the strongest ties of kin- 
dred affection, by the sacred ashes on liberty's altar, by 
the shed blood which cements the fair fabric of Ameri- 
can independence, by the promptings of weeping hu- 
manity, by a spirit of national pride and glory, and by 
tt love of his offspring, to educate his children, that they 
may be competent guardians of our liberties. Educat«i 



;3 UFE AND CHARACTER 0¥ 

he rising gei^eration, and the privileges enjoyed by the 
M-esent generation will be handed down from father to 
;on, and become perpetual. Educate them, and they 
^vill know their rights, and knowing them, will maintam 
aiem. Educate them, and they will rise up and bless 
j-our memory for it. Educate them, and the unhallowed 
altars of superstition will crumble into dust, and their 
places be occupied by those of the living God, and true 
religion will rule the affections of every heart. What 
can°be an object of more lofty pride to a father, than an 
intellio-ent son? This should be sufAcient inducement 
for the son'to see that he does not disappoint the just 
expectations of his parents. He has the means, if he 
will but use them aright. ' Let his ambition for literary 
honor be high; his design, hke the great epic poet of 
modern times, to leave something so written, or done, 
that after-ages will not willingly, let his memory die. 

Who, that surveys this span of earth vre press. 
This speck of iffe in time's great wilderness. 
This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas. 
The past, the future, two eternities! — 
Would- sully the bright spot, or leave it hare, 
When hG might build him a bright temple there? 

Is there not a vouth hstening to me who has com= 
menced building this proud temple? Is there no spark 
of celestial fire glowing in his bosom? I this day draw 
aside the veil, and point him to the brilliant beacons 
blazing from the hill-tops of science, where, he may read 
emblazoned in inextinguishable characters, the names of 
men renowned for attainments he may achieve.^ Who 
knows but I address a youth, to-day, who is destined to 
wield the sceptre of government? Perhaps, within these 
walls is a future Washington, destined to lead our pa- 



CAPT. \VM. B. ALLEN 29 

triotic armies, through a bloody revolution, to victory and 
conquest, and to preside as Cliief Magistrate of this 
mighty nation? Under this liumble roof there may be a 
Patrick Henry, who will burst forih from his obscurity, 
astonish the world, and cause the thrones of despots to 
sliake to their very centre, by his native, original, iirc- 
sistible eloquence. I may be addressing a young Frank- 
lin, who is to catch the angry thundeAolt and lay it 
harmless at his feet. All these glowing anticipations, 
and yet greater, may be realized by giving (heir minds 
the proper direction, now while young. Tliey need but 
to aspire, qualify themselves, and be the pride and glory 
of their country. 

And you, young gentlemen, who have passed from 
the care of teachers and haye began to gain a footing on 
the great arena of 'civil action, yoit have an important 
part to act in this matter. You must rise or fall by your 
own exertions. A bright and joyous future shines be- 
fore you. Honors and distinctions are at your command. 
Let it be graven on your minds that 

'•Honor and shanio from no condition rise. 
Act well your pari; there all the honor lies." 
« * * * * * « »"■* 

" Worth makes the man, \\-ant of it the fellow, 
The rest is all, but leather and prunella." 

Let no obstacle discourage you, though it seem as 
mountain high. You may conclude, as probably some 
of you have concluded, that, because your parents are 
poor, you have no claims to literary distinctions. This 
is not the least discouraging, when we consider that 
those whose names are most conspicuous in history were 
born of poor parentage. The rich are apt to be content 



30 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

with the inglorious ease and luxury their wealth secures 
tliem. The best and largest contributions to the sum of 
human science, have been from those sons of genius who, 
in spite of penury and neglect, wrested applause from 
envious mediocrity by their indomitable application and 
perseverance. Franklin was a printer's boy, Roger Sher- 
man and Bloomfield were shoemakers, Rittenhouse was 
a ploughman of Pennsylvania, Ferguson was bred a poor 
shepherd's boy, and hundreds of othevs might be enu- 
merated in the same category, yet, where shall we find 
names more renowned than these? How seldom do we 
see the sons of wealthy parents excelling in the laudable 
pursuit of letters? I believe it is fortunate for a youth 
aspiring to eminent distinction, to be poor; fortunate for 
our country that there are such youths among us. Be- 
cause you are poor, young man, be not dejected. Hold 
up your head and look the most affluent in the face, as if 
you did not envy his situation. Let not his farms and 
funds impress you with a sense of inferiority. Let your 
sole object be to become men, useful men, of yourselves. 
Let your voice, one day, be heard in the Legislative 
Halls of your country. This is a more enviable distinc- 
tion than any that wealth can afford. Age, with its form 
leaning upon a staff for a support, ceases to be engaged 
in the public service. Youth is destined to take its place. 
A youthful Queen now wields the sceptre of England. — 
Bavaria, Austria, Prussia and Greece are ruled by youth- 
ful princes, and the youngest branch of the house of 
Bourbon rules vine-clad France.* It is rare to see a man 
whose head is whitened with age, at the head af aifairs. 



• Louis Phillip was dethroned after this was written. 



CAPT. WM, B. ALLEN. 



31' 



What responsible concerns are to be placed in the hands 
of the youth? The task becomes his vigor of body and 
mind. Its performance is no less difficult than delightful. 
To the intrepid youth, even danger has charms. The 
mind, ever active, is unconscious of satiety. In the lan- 
guage of Beattie. *' In the crowded city or howling wil- 
derness ; in the cultivated province ar.d solitary isle ; in 
the flowery lawn and on the craggy mountain ; in the 
murmur of the rivulet and in the uproar of the ocean ; in 
the radiance of summer and gloom of winter; in the 
thunder of heaven and in the whisper of the breeze ; he 
still finds something to arouse or soothe his imao-ina- 
tion ; to draw forth his affections and employ his under- 
standino'. '* 

Young Gentlemen: Childish trinkets must cease to 
amuse you. You must put on the to^a virilis. Your 
age of manhood should inspire with an ambition to play 
your part with effect and eclat. A thousand hearts will 
rejoice at your success and renown in life. The man of 
letters finds a source of real enjoyment in his meditations. 
He may cull the richest flowers that ever bloomed in 
Purnassian latitudes. 

For him there's a story in every breeze. 
For him a picture lives in every wave. 

Let the example of departed worth cheer and animate 
you. Let the example of Demosthenes in his silent cave, 
and on the banks of the noisy sea encoui'age you. Let 
Franklin's zeal and success brighten your hopes. Let 
these names be models for your imitation and you wUl 
succeed. The student's toils and lucubrations are not to 
be ended with your active years of life. They afford con- 
solation and delight to declining years. 



32 , UFB AND CHARACTER OF 

Fancy pours 
Afresh, lier beauties on his busy thought, 
Her first endearments twining round the soul, 
Wiih all the witchery of ensnaring love. 

And, young ladies, you should have cultivated minds 
and liLcrary tastes, also. It is true you are not expected 
to command our armies or govern our aasemblies, but 
you have a parL to act which requires suitable qualifica- 
tions, lb is not presumable that you will grace the pul- 
pit, or like Fanny Wright, stroll over and scold your 
country. Such a course, as I conceive, would be derog- 
atory to your sex. You may, like Hannah Moore, Ma- 
dame de Stael, Mrs. Hemans, Mrs. Sigourney, Miss Sedg- 
wick, Miss Dix, and many others of your sex, engrave 
your names upon your country's marble tablets, which 
the fino-er of time can never efface. But too little atten- 
tion is paid to female education in this, as in every other 
country. Woman cannot point with feelings of pride and 
love to the national institutions devoted to her instruction. 
The foundation stone of such a fabiic is not yet taken 
from the quarry. Yet you ought to, and can do much, 
to qualify yourselves for a pleasing and useful passage 
through life. 

Pupils of Jackson Academy, your present session has 
now come to a close. You have been, I trust, diligently 
eno-ao-ed, in the improvement of your intellectual facul- 
ties, during the past session. You have made an hon- 
orable exhibition of your attainments to your parents and 
guardians. They rejoice at your advancement. You are 
their pride, if you act well your parts, but their shame 
and sorrow, if you neglect or abuse your privilegs. — 
Because your session has expired, think not that your 
course of study is ended. After you shall have learued 



CAl'T. WM. B. ALLEH, 3i3 

ail you can at school, you will have just learned how to 
learn. You should be students all your lives. Endeav- 
or to form the habit of study. You will then take de- 
light in it. It was the delights of study which Gibbon 
said he would not exchange for all of the wealth of the 
Indies. For the sake of these delights, Petrarch re- 
tired into solitude at Vaucluse. It was this that con- 
fioled Bunyan in his dungeon, when writing his inimita- 
ble Pikn-im*s Pro£>-ress. And it is this that will afford 
you enjoyments, if you will endeavor to clamber a little 
higher up the Hill of Science. You may then see tlie 
student's land of promise. Its fields are covered with 
fragrant flowers; Hesperian fruits adorn its trees. It 
contains treasures of more value than those of Golconda. 
They arc reserved for the votaries of science. Only stu- 
dents can pluck the flowers, taste the fruits, or possess 
the wealth of this literary elyseum — none but the pa- 
tient, untiring student can ever enjoy them. Your teach- 
ers have been endeavoring to point out, and help you on 
the way to this promised land. They have shown you 
the channel in which to sail your bark; they have cau- 
tioned you of the dangers by the way, and shown you 
where, on the one hand, you should avoid the impend- 
ing rock of Scylla, on the other, the whirlpool of Charyb- 
dis. They have furnished you with a chart and compass, 
and rigged your vessel for the voyage. Now you are to 
start alone, on the perilous tour. You must go some- 
where. If you continue straight forward, neither loiter- 
ing by the way, nor swerving to either side, you will 
safely reach the sunny plains which await your occu- 
pancy. On, then, on to the conquest of a name and 
fortune among men. It is the desire of all hearts, that 
you succeed. Your preceptors desire that you xn«y be- 



34 LIFE AND OHARACTER OP 

come ornaments to society. Your parents pray that you 
may be useful to your country. The multitude stand 
waiting to applaud your success. May you all deserve 
it, and each of you find it as pleasing in possession, as I 
feel the prospect of your future is beautiful to me. 

I thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for the kindness of 
your marked attention; and to those of you who have» 
during the brief space I have occupied your attention, 
had your hopes excited for some one or more of this 
interesting band of scholars, I would say that no pa- 
rent here will rejoice more sincerely at the progress of 
his child, none more ardently desires the present and 
eternal honor and happiness of these young persons, 
than I do. This feeling I trust you will deem sufficient 
apology for the fervor and freedom with which I have 
delivered my sentiments before you. Being a youth my- 
self, and finding before me many companions of my 
early years, I shall deem myself fortunate if I have 
strengthened the worthy purpose of only one of those so 
dear to you and to me." 

This Address was delivered but two years before Mr. 
Alien took his seat in the General Assemby. There can 
be no doubt that he reduced the principles which he 
here inculcated, to practice in his own deportment, as 
the united testimony of all with whom he associated, 
proves him to have been remarkably circumspect and 
courteous, as well as sedulous in his application to busi- 
ness. 



ca.pt. wm. b. ajllew 35 



CHAPTER III. 

The Texas Annexation question — Capt. Allen's first Political 
Speech — his Graduating Thesis. 

Soon after the delivery of this Address, he returned 
to College, where his bold and eloquent speeches, made 
in the several Societies, drew him into general notice 
and fiivor. About this time, the situation of Texas had 
attracted the attention of several of the European gov- 
ernments. Under the lead of General Houston and oth- 
er gallant men, chiefly emigrants from the United States, 
Texas had, in 1035, burst from her Mexican shackles, 
and boldly claimed the place and privileges of an inde- 
pendent nation. Born and baptized in the fire and fury 
of the battle-field, the young Republic proudly spread 
her victorious flag to the breeze, and came so suddenly 
and confidently upon the great arena of nations, that 
her claims to independence were scarcely known to exist, 
when the trumpet of fame sounded in the ears of the 
astonished world, her splendid feats of aims, and recep- 
tion into the family of nations. After gallantly main- 
taining her position for nine years, it was ascertained by 
her wisest and ablest men, that sinister measures were 
being taken to despoil her of the fruits of her toils and 
victories. A greedy swarm of foreign emmissaries in- 
fested her shores, inviting her to relinquish her freedom, 
so dearly and gallantly won, and make herself the colo- 
ny of good mother Britain, or at least cast from her the 
vulgar cap of liberty, and swear allegiance to 6om« 






36 LIFE AND CHARACTER 0? 

prince of royal blood, who stood ready to become her 
lord and master. It has been said there were, both 
among her own, and our citizens, many eminent men 
inclined to favor these propositions. The powerful pro- 
tection of more than one great nation of the old world, 
was offered to secure her from the assaults of her an- 
cient masters, the Mexicans, who, after repeated futile 
attempts to subdue her, still cherished the wish and 
purpose to repeat their efforts. Among other schemes, 
it wns pr( pcsed by M. Guizot, primier of France, to es- 
tablish a monarchy, of which Texas should be a part, to 
maintain the balance of power on this continent. This 
proposition was justly viewed as a blow at the rising 
trreatncss of the United States, and was treated as such 
by our public functionaries, when the time for action 
came. It had been solemnly declared in 1808, by Pre- 
sident Monroe, that this government would not consent 
that European policy should be forced upon any part of 
North America, and this salutary remonstrance had been 
repeated, from the same high position, by others. It 
was, and is, the settled feeling of the country. It was, 
therefore, incumbent on our government, to appear upon 
the the stage of action. She did appear. But unfortu- 
nately for the just fame of some of her prominent citi- 
zens, a presidential canvass was at hand, and they 
availed themselves of the known interest felt by the peo- 
ple, in the fortunes of the gallant young Repubhc. At 
the same time, a considerable number of distinguished 
men, who have assumed the title of philanthropists, and 
even christians, were loud in their protestations against 
our interference. Texas, some of them insisted, was a 
revolted colony. She had not obtained the consent of 
Mexico to her independence, and was not, therefor©, 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. St 

competent to cede herself away. In reply to these scru- 
pulous and high-minded patriots, it was replied, that 
revolution is the inalienable right of all nations, when or 
by whomsoever oppressed, and that to require colonies, 
driven to revolt by tyranny, to obtain the consent of 
their oppressors to a separation, was, at once, impossi- 
ble, unjust, and at variance wilh usage. Another con- 
siderable class of citizens protested against the annexa- 
tion of Texas to our Republic, because such annexation 
would enlarge the bounds of our sugar and cotton grow- 
ing lands, which enlargement, they said, would virtually 
favor slavery. These two classes united, and were met 
by those who insisted on an extension of the principles 
of our constitution, over the largest area, and the great- 
est number of persons, without regard to the produc- 
tions or present condition of the people in the new acqui- 
sition. The conflict between the two great parties was 
conducted with much ardor and consummate ability. — 
The ablest writers, and most eloquent orators of this or 
any other country, came before the people, and poured, 
out in copious and constant streams, the treasured accu- 
mulations of many years of honorable toils and experi- 
ence. As became an American citizen, our student 
formed an opinion on passing events, and freely expressed 
it on all proper occasions. In the early part of the year 
1843, as at several former periods, the re-annexation of 
Texas to this Republic, was every where, and by every 
body, here and in Europe, a common topic of specula- 
tion. Shall it be done? was the great question. Al- 
though some of our most esteemed and ablest public 
men published elaborate arguments for the negative, Mr, 
Allen, in the exercise of his free judgment, ranged him- 
self on the side of the affirmative. About this time, 



38 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

public meetings were held for the discussion of this 
absorbing question, in every part of the country. Mr. 
Allen attended one of these assemblies at Nashville. It 
was addressed by several distinguished gentlemen, long 
trained, by their duty in high official and professional 
places, in the art of speaking. The subject addressed 
itself strongly, to the minds of the people. They called 
up several speakers, among them Mr. Allen. This was 
his first attempt on a political question. Had he been 
called to (he defence of a thesis in the hall of his alma 
mater, against the assaults of a fellow -student, his 
friends f6U sure he would acquit himself with honor. — 
There, he would be prepared; but they feared the pre- 
sent call should not be responded to by him. They 
heard the repeated calls for Allen, Allen, Allen, from 
the eager crowd, with alarm. The subject now to be 
discussed, was exclusively a popular one. The exercises 
in College, and the recent origin of the question, they 
feared had afforded him little, if any means, of obtaining 
information on a subject so new, vast and exciting. The 
young student did not participate in the fears of his 
friends, but did not willingly respond. He had an opinion, 
decided and firm, and was ready to assign his reasons 
for adopting that opinion. But he felt all that diffidence 
so becoming in him. He evidently wished to avoid the 
present call, but those who had heard of his perform- 
ances in College, had no doubt he would acquit himself 
with credit in public. They were not disappointed. — 
Amidst repeated calls from the vast assembly, he at 
length arose. The shout that greeted his appearance 
seemed to awaken all the energies of his manly soul, and 
attune him to the exalted theme of human liberty, honor 
and glory, For more than an hour the youthful student. 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 39 

a mere casual listener to others, held the large assembly 
m strict attention, to their seats. He more than met the 
wishes of his friends. They heard him with rapture, 
and spread his fame in every circle. The news of his 
having participated in a political meeting, reached the' 
sequestered study of his College teachers. Their policy 
had been to shut polemics, especially all party discus- 
sions, out of their precincts, and to concentrate the en- 
tire attention of their pupils upon their O'.vn assigned 
studies. For the first time — the only instance in his 
scholastic life — our student was called to account for an 
error. The open, frank and prompt manner in which he 
confessed his error, disarmed the sternness of the Facul- 
ty, and secured their continued confidence and esteem. 
He had given way to the noble impulses of his heart in 
responding to the call, but he was not too stubborn or 
too proud to acknowledge his error. With this single 
exception, his collegiate career was marked by a scrupu- 
lous observance of the laws of the Institution, and a con- 
stant devotion to his appropriate duties. His graduating 
Thesis bears evidences of deep thought, and of a mature 
intellectual training, which fully attest the faithfulness 
with which he had discharged his duties. Under the 
conviction that this Thesis will be read with pleasure and 
profit, it is deemed proper to insert it entire: — 

GRADUATING THESIS. 
In a country where the people are free and independ- 
ent, where genius is suffered to grasp at mighty objects, 
without limitations to its powers, where rivalry and 
competition constitute the basis of excellence in every 
department of literary and scientific investigation, the 
mind not unfrequently transcends its legitimate bounda- 



iO LIFE AND CHAHACTEK OF 

ries HI the majesty of its conceptions, the brilliancy of 
its exploits, and the rich exuberance of its fancy. The 
inexhaustible treasures ef classical lore, the suitable 
adaptation of wholesome and beneficent laws, and the in- 
viting official stations which are to be filled by those best 
qualified to discharge their duties, afford the amplest in- 
ducements for the exertion of the young aspirant for 
fame. The portals of literature are continually open for 
his reception. The brightest gems that ever emblazoned 
the chaplet of a Milton, a Bacon and a Locke, may glist- 
en in his own, and the acquisition which Gibbon would 
not have exchanged for all the w^ealth of the Indies, may 
be his. Men of extraordinary capacities of mind and 
well disciplined intellects, are required to give dignity to 
the learned professions. The physician must examine 
and find out the secret causes of disease, and apply the 
necessary remedy. If he would succed and honor his 
«alling, he must understand his business. The young 
Sangrados, without qualification, at this age and time, 
;.re useless citizens. 

The lawyer, with patient reflection and untiring zeal, 
traces the bloody steps of crime from its source, marks 
its progress and retrogradation, and pleads, with the 
;soul-stirring eloquence of a Tull}^ the cause of guilt or 
innocence. Here is called into requisition the loftiest in- 
tellects, the most erudite scholars, and the most con- 
summate skill. Here is a field, though not as pleasant 
and flowery as some others, which is as extensive as the 
mind's eye has ever surveyed. Here is an arena, broad 
and expansive, embracing within its limits all the classic 
^a-ounds of hoary antiquity, and bringing within its 
sweeping grasp the wisdom of the master-spirits of all 
£ii^es and of all countries. But a loftier theme than this 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEW. 41 

invites his attention, and inspires his soul. With the 
eloquence of a renowned orator, animated with the 
magnitude and thrilling importance of his subject, be 
may speak of a 

" Recovered Paradise to all mankind," 

or in 

"Melting tenderness, that blend 
With pure and gentle musings, fill the soul. 
Commingling with the melody, is borne, 
Rapt, and dissolved in ecstacy, to heaven." 

exclaim, 

" How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed." 

These are some of the subjects in which the youth of 
the country may readily engage. They afford a field 
for no ordinary speculation, and energy of mind. But, 
not to their lasting credit, the ambitious for distinctions 
and notoriety, turn the current of their thoughts into a 
contrary channel. Unwilling to bask contented in the 
calm sunshine of happiness, without incurring the mis- 
fortune of defeat, their generous hearts beat responsive 
to a different calling, and they rush headlong and pre- 
cipitately into its dominions, exposing themselves to the 
raging tempests and mighty upheavings of popular com- 
motions in sentiment, which distract and agitate our 
country. Is it because our free institutions are about to 
be destroyed and patriotism demands his exertion? Is 
it that our eagle g^ory is about to depart? If one's 
country is endangered, her rights invaded, or character 
aspersed, he should enlist himself in her defence, raise 
his voice to arouse his countrymen to a sense of their 
danger, ward oft' the blows that are directed at her, and 



42 LIES AND CnARACTER OV 

point her to a glorious destination. If her territory is in- 
vaded by an insulting foe, if the war-whoop echoes along 
her borders, and a joatriotic exertion on his part is ne- 
cessary to her rescue, he should buckle on his armor of 
steel, fly to the tented field, and conquer or fall in de- 
fending her character from unmerited imputation. lie 
should always stand up in support of his country, or 
perish nobly at her hallowed shrine. But "to every 
thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose." 
There may be a time, when a truce to useless discus- 
sions, tinged with a party cast, and surcharged with 
party rant, may be obtained. There is great danger of 
men, who suffer their feelings to be enlisted in a cause, 
like Icarus, soaring too loftily in this strange element, 
and eventually sharing his fate. Facts are chronicled in 
history, which tell us the greatest geniuses, and the 
most enlightened minds, have been prostituted in the 
rage for political preferment. The malaria is spreading 
alarmingly fast throughout the extent of our own happy 
country. It has infused itself into almost every condi- 
tion and circumstance in life, and society is bleeding 
freely from the wounds it has inflicted upon her. The 
flames of faction and dissension are fanned into fury by 
every passing gale. The fires of a restless ambition 
burn in the bosom of man. To its merciless prey thou- 
sands of noble victims have been offered. Humanity 
weeps over the innumerable crimes it has perpetrated. — 
Nor is it the ambition of prosecuting any plan which 
would redound to the good of the country, but of sow- 
ing the seeds of discord in our midst, as prolific as the 
fabulous dragoon's teeth, producing consequences at last 
" more terrible than army with banners." The vehicle 
t>f communication between different sections of the civil- 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 45 

ised world, has been employed in the most vicious and 
nefarious purposes — 

"'Tis the prolific press; whose tablet, fraught 
By graphic Genius with his painted thought. 
Fling forth' by millions the prodigious birth, 
And in a moment stocks the astonished earth." 

That instrument which has illumined by its influence, 
minds otherwise destined to remain obscurely inactive, 
and reflected a radiancy of glory around modern inven- 
tions, is, we dislike to own, operating deleteriously and 
injuriously upon the moral condition of the people. It 
has denfcneraled into the most flaorant licentiousness and 
shameful perversion of truth. That, which more than 
any other agent, assisted the Reformers in freeing' them- 
selves and the world from ecclesiastical despotism, and 
securinc: to man his leo-itimate rii'ht, has often been used 
in disseminating contrary doctrines. And can you won- 
der at it? Have not the blackest crimes that ever dis- 
graced the page of history, been perpetrated ignominious- 
ly, in the name of liberty? Has not the most insulting 
despotism civil or ecclesiastical, been brought upon an 
unsuspecting people under the disguise of reforml By 
declaring themselves the protectors of the people, have 
not the Mariuses and Caesars subverted the constitution 
of their country? Has not immaculate innocence been 
betrayed by a kiss, and are there not yet Judases in the 
world? Objects which are designed to enhance man's 
happiness on earth, has been employed in corrupting his 
morals and misleading his judgment. In view of such 
considerations, can any profess an astonishment at the 
tendency of the press at the present day? It bore such 
a pbasis ere the star of liberty arose to its zenith iu 



'*'* LIFE AND CHARACTER 09 

America, and reflected its light back upon the benighted 
regions of Europe. The spirit that was got up \a the last 
century in the "battle of the books," still lingers around 
those places where intelleciual feats are encouraged. 
Paying due and becoming respect to the opinions of 
others, that such hostile array of banners and marshal- 
ing y subjects in the field where mind combats with 
mind for the mastery— where intellectual superiority is 
not the only desideratum— where the desire of one party 
is to build its fortune and success upon the ruined repu- 
tation of the other, a connection false or true, impresses 
itself up6n our fears, that in the dissemination of knowl- 
edge, it also inculcates in the youthful breast immortal 
principles. 

"The broad covrnptiye plague * 

Breatlies from the city to the farthest hut 
That sits serene within the forest shade." 

To counteract such a tendency, a very serious and im^ 
portant inquiry might be instituted, whether, with such 
unrestricted privileges and encouragement to their free 
exercise, danger to our institutions, at a period not re- 
mote, may not be apprehended? In our country, the pa- 
triot's home and the home of freedom, no man fears to 
open the door of his thoughts upon any subject. He 
dreads no inquisition. In every town or village through- 
out the Union of the States, one or more newspapers or 
periodical journals is published, commercial, religious, or 
political. That sectarian religious zealots often overieap 
the boundary of decent propriety, to say the least, in the 
mad enthusiasm and rancor of controversy, has been well 
established. But when we turn our attention for a mo- 
ment to the great theatre of political action, upon which 
the noblest spirits and "demigods of fame" have stood 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 45 

fsrect we forget or lose sight of all boundaries in the 
stretch of our imaginations. We see men who command 
respectability and no ordinary talents, and who profess to 
adhere to tlie truth at every hazard, forgetting the high 
responsibility they have assumed — fearlessly and un- 
bliishingly cHnging to a party for the sake of party — and 
throwing the broad mantle of oblivion over truth, at a 
time when she should shine with the "reatest brightness 
and lustre. The subject matter of inquiry is not, what 
is best for the country, but what is best calculated to ad- 
vance the interest of the party. With another, I am 
prepared to assert, that "parties must unquestionably ex- 
ist in every free country." There will be differences of 
opinion in regard to principles, and measures, and men; 
and it is beyond doubt salutary and desirable that dis- 
cussion should be open, free and fearless. But false- 
hood, virulence and abuse aie not necessary to promote 
the ends of truth and public welfare, nor the honorable 
ends of any party. Yet w.hen we consider how little the 
press, on either hand can be relied upon for accurate 
statements of facts— what continual stimulants are ad- 
ministered to the prejudices and bad passions of the peo- 
ple — how little of calm and candid discussion of political 
questions, and what ringing of charges upon mere party 
watchwords — and what wanton and virulent abuse is 
continually flung in feurn upon every public man in the 
country; we cannot but regard the influence of the party 
press as extremely demoralizing. Is this assumption 
universally and unexceptionably true? Are there not 
high minded, intelligent men in that department of busi- 
ness who would not maliciously perpetrate a deed de- 
rogatory to a man of unimpeachable veracity?. It is 
iiigbly gratifying to the patriot and casuist to be asssured, 



46 LiyK AND CnARACTER OF 

that notwithstanding the various inducements to the con- 
trary, men of pure motives in high places, of incorrupt- 
able integrity, and characters impervious to the enven- 
omed darts of calumny and detraction, do exist. Yes ! 
there are those who, though poor indeed, cannot be pur- 
chased by ail the wealth of Great Britain. Hope still 
lingers around us in the gloomiest hour — still emits a 
cheering ray when everything is indicative of presaging 
distress. When the waves of corruption rise high, and 
threaten to submerge the vessel in which is deposited the 
''Magna Charta" of the people's rights, we have never 
yet been without a Neptune to quell their fury by the 
trident of his eloquence, or a hero to still them on the 
brink by the cannon roar of war. When the night is 
darkest and most obscure, the stars — the "poetry of 
heaven" — shine with the brightest effulgence and mag- 
nificence. When the shade of a dreadful catastrophe is 
spreading over the country everyvv^here, as the broad 
canopy above us, then it is that the patriot's virtues and 
the chieftain's valor shine forth, dissipating the gloom, 
and lighting up with joy the mansions of distress. Al- 
though rewards and bribes may dazzle before him in 
gorgeous splendor, he never swerves from his purpose, to 
be branded like Pausanias and Arnold, with ignominy, 
and to deserve the detestation of mankind. In view of 
the good it has done and is still doing, can we say with 
a consistency that knows no shame, that the press — the 
Archimedean lever by which the deep foundations of 
tyranny and despotism have been overturned — shall be 
conditionally restricted? Further than a corrective of its 
abuses, would be an infringement upon constitutonial 
rights. Another species of excitement and demagogueism 
prevails in our country of no ordinary character and con- 



CAPT, Wii. B. ALLEir. 4t 

f{^rn. There are not a few aspirants to fame in our midst, 
who anxiously pant for that notoriety and thundering ap- 
plause to which the young Ciceros are so justly entitled. 
The fires of genius are blazing upon every hill-top, 
and the lights are seen afar off. Every man, great or 
small, high or low, lights his torch and bears it away in 
triumph, to illumine dark and benighted regions. In 
every little field are Richmonds more than one, 

"All bluster arra'd with factious license, 

Transform'd at once to politicians ; 

Each leather- aproned clown grow wise 

Present his forward face t'advise. 

And tatter'd legislators meet, 

From ev'ry workshop through the street; 

His goose, the tailor finds no use in, 

To patch and turn the constitution; 

The blacksmith comes with sledge and grate. 

To iron-biud tlic wheels of State." 

With a sufficient stock of unblushing impudence and flow 
of words, the orator mounts the Bema, cheered and ani- 
mated by the shouts of his respectable auditory. From 
his eagle eye flashes the liglitnings of genius, and "thun- 
ders of eloquence roll from his lips." He speaks in the 
sublimest strains of the sibyl pages of the ''Constitution" 
and its spirit — of the prime necessity of preservino it in- 
violate — and pledges to support it at the peril of his life. 
The sensation it produces is electric. The welkin rino-s 
with joyous acclamation and the "constitution forever." 
The sound dies away in the distance, and he resumes by 
professing an unalterable attachment for the dear people 
— that he is descended from a noble line of ancestors, 
whose deeds of daring are celebrated in song — and that 
TT^igrardless of personal emolument and popular favor, his 



UFE AND CHARACTER OF 



voice shall be for his country, and nothing but hiscoum- 
try; to Avhich the people respond reverently, *'amen." — • 
He summarily considers the whole Held of political dis- 
putation, weighs with a statesman-like sagacity the im- 
portant positions assumed pro and con — and submits his 
righteous cause to the verdict of a confiding constituency, 
believing their decision will be just. Tremendous and 
enthusiastic cheering follows, and the orator, by general 
consent, is immediately dubbed the Cric/itoii oih'is nge. 
A host of others etjually valiant, proud and ambitious of 
distinction, and vain beyond com])arison, armed (in their 
own estimation) with the unerring sword of truth, and 
protects from the assault of antngonists, by the impene- 
trable shield of a noble cause, backed with abundant evi- 
dence, the testimony of which cannot be invalidated. — 
Flowers of evergreen, and glories immor(al, are in the 
road the young aspirant has discovered in the hallucina- 
tion of a romantic imagination. No Utica circumscribes 
his vision; no change passes over the spirit of his dreams, 
and he stands blameless before the world, although his 
principles have assumed a chameli'on-like character, and 
his positions a contradictory aspect, if the "sine qua 
non" of his ambition— the elevation to official dignity— is 
obtained. Like the Vum- of Bray, he professes to be gov- 
erned by a punctilious consistency. If time and circum- 
stances undergo a partial change in the course of things. 
Proteus will be pardoned in altering his views to suit 
them. If by shifting his position, he is found on the 
popular side, it would be ungenerous to impugn his mo- 
tives, for who knows but he is acting under the inlluence 
of serious and deliberrte conviction? The light of truth 
may Hash across the understanding prejudiced by the 
predilections. But to say nothing about inconsistencies 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 49 

and damning heresies, which are very common, it may 
not be unimportant to observe with what prematurity 
and precocity of genius, the professed votaries of the 
country engage in her service. The time has been, 
when the Madisons, the Jetfersons and the Jays decided 
constitutional questions with a consciousness of their in- 
abihty for the task; but now, since improvement in the 
science of government has been carried to such a solar- 
height, the young man, whose beard is not yet ripe 
for the reaper's sickle, undertakes to explain those 
points with unusual boldness and fearlessness. With a 
proud consciousness, and stout heart, he^meets the ablest 
champion in debate, and breaks a lance with him in 
vindication of certain cherished principles. There is no 
lion in politics he is afraid to beard. With bold words, 
and Demosthenean emphasis, he succeeds, like David, 
in vanquishing the Goliath of the adverse faction, if 
we put credence in his party newspaper organ, and 
encircles his brow v/ith wreaths, ''compared to which 
the laurels which a Caesar wore were weeds." So in- 
viting are the prospects, so patriotic the undertaking, 
and so glorious the results of an early participation in 
the political controversies of the day, that few, it seems, 
are such Ulysses as to resist the temptation. Frenzied 
by an inordinate, though not always laudable ambition, 
"fools rush in where angels fear to tread." However 
wicked their purposes, and deep their schemes of tyran- 
ny, they always hoist the motto of "Retrenchment and 
Reform," and "in hoc signo vincit." They profess tr» 
be governed entirely by a disinterested patriotism, and 
abhor every thing that bears the phasis of dissimulation. 
In every thing connected with the advancement and 
prosperity of their coaamon country, they are scrupu- 
D 



5() LIFE AND CHARACTKR OF 

lously and rigidly strict and circumspect — so straiglif, 
thiit like the ''fiulijin's Inu', they beml Ihc other wny." 
And, wiih tlie confident h(^])c th;it Ave will not incur llie 
displeasure or dis:i])probalioi\ of those whose province 
is unearthly beauty, whose every clir.rm is tiie ningic of 
enchantment, and whose prime authority is love, we beg 
leave to remark, that notwithstanding the almost insep- 
arable barriers to modesty, and the objections which 
public opinion interposes, there have been, and 1 had like 
to have said arc yet, not a few would be Fanny Wr'n/hU 
in the )vorld. 

Wc have briefly alluded to the course pursued by the 
quasi politicians of our country, and the motives by 
•which they are in most cases governed. Self aggran- 
dizement seems the secret moving prijn iple to such ac- 
tion. It is not because he loves his country less, but 
because he loves ollice more. So omnipotent is this in- 
centive, that many who claim to rank lirst in the list of 
uncompromising patriots, would -willingly and unhesita- 
tingly sell their very birth -rights for a mess of public 
favor. To secure ollice in high repute, they labor, toil, 
quarrel, fight, bargain, intrigue, and almost any thing 
else which belongs to the insiduous cunning of the dema- 
gogue. Acting according to the Jesuitical doctrine, that 
the end sancLilies the means, they resort to various 
tricks, and sundry devices, to impose upon the credulity 
of the honest people whom they profess to love with all 
their hearts. With what deep solicitude and scrupu- 
lous regard should such ill-om(uied legerdemain and 
Machiavellism be observed? How vigilant and active 
should every American citizen be, who is proud of his 
juUional Gxist4?nce, in counteracting such evil tendencies? 
JJut at the same time, shall we iix a tcnnimu to the 



r;APT. WW. a. A.LIES. Fj] 

kudabJe efforts of the airpiring yo«th? Sliall hU vault- 
ing ambition be checked? I«j he to fcUnd still and on- 
rnoved, when the cloadn are grvthering thick, with a 
frightful aKpect, over the pillars of State, which augur 
cistruction and ruin? Hhall hiu arm har.g nerveleu*?, 
and his generou*! bo*iom cea>^ to give vent i/j itg pent up 
fire and enthu%ia*in, when hi* «rr\'ice« are in reqaiii ion? 
,Vo! it'* the prerogative of mind, the home of the Deity, 
to think and act for it«elf. It owni no superior, it re- 
co^r.i'es no rule. It's the Prometheu«» u- rit 

whi'h tyrant* can never control. The p/. Jon 

to the effervescence of youthful intellect "foaming up 
with the fipirit of life" '. '. 'm apt ' the 

t'^>csia of alarm when r:o - nigh — ; - .pa 

enisade when there are no inficJel* in the city — and con- 
-,' :' '-'■■;■, - '"- ■ fifces. 

that inducea fcome to aihrm, ma; Ji wa^ irnyjUkihlt Ua 
this counlry Uj produce, in the strict %n*e of the tera, 
a genuine fcta.teBmen — that f/^^liticians we have many, 
Htatefcrnen none — that we cannot point to them in the 
ezaltatioQ of our heartjj, and exclaim '*here utand the 
choicest fepiritft of the arre; the greatest wita, the nobleiri 
orator?, ihe wisest ; ' and the n:.o*t i\]uf'.rloa.H 

patriots, ilere th^; • whofce handu hare been 

ralred for their country, who^e rr.agical eloquence shock 
the «phere», who»>e genia 'f;d out «:rairi» wonhy 

the inispiraiion of the Go , -. Jivea are devcted to 

the purity of their principles, wbo«e memorie* were be- 
queathed to a race gritefal for beneStg received from 
their •ufferinj^s and their sacrifices/' However tru^ 
»«ch a remark may be in reference to conteraporaneou'S 
»ta*e»m€n, it hi^e lo foundation in the rv;e of patriot^,, 



tug LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

of whom we are their successors. They **. filled the 
measure of their country's glory," and their names will 
never die. For them 

"There is no vulgar sepulclire; green sods 
Are all their monuments; and yet it tells 
A nobler history than pillar'd piles, 
Or the eternal pyramids. They need 
No statue or inscription to reveal 
Their greatness. It is round thera; and the joy 
With which their children tread the hallowed ground 
That holds their venerated boues, the peace 
That smiles on all they sought lor, and the "wealth 
That clothes the land they rescued, — these though mute- 
As feeling ever is when deepest — these 
Are monuments more lasting than the fanes 
lleared to the kings and demi-gods of old." 

Their deeds of daring and matchless valor stand as a 
tower pointing magnificently to heaven, exciting the en- 
vy and admiration of the world. To perpetuate their 
memories, there is required no storied urn — no monu- 
mental inscription. That those who have succeeded 
them in directing the wheels of government, may never 
cease to emulate their Socratic virtues, that they will 
not soon forget the obligations they are under to defend 
the liberties of their country, and that no consideration 
of selfishness will ever be the cause of an abandonment 
of those principles for which our fathers fought and bled, 
is confidently and ardenty hoped. If the only consola- 
tion of the patriot on earth is to be destroyed, if law 
and order is to be no longer respected, if we are ever 
constrained to hug the chains of slavery and despair, 
the people, who hold in their hands the sceptre of gov- 
ernment, are and ought to be responsible for it. If a 
Gataline, in haughty vindictiveness, is beating at the 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 53 

temple gates of liberty, it -will be remem"bered he re- 
ceived Lis elevation from the hands of the people. If 
^ve are ever to be free as the air we breathe, if the sun 
of greatness is not set in the starless night of despotism, 
if our brighest hopes and anticipations are to be real- 
ized in reference to the continued prosperity of our coun- 
try, they should be instructed in the principles upon 
which our institutions are founded. Without such an 
auxiliary there is no hope. If the elements of corrup- 
tion, licentiousness and prodigality are sown broad-casi, 
this is no longer "the land of the free, and home of the 
brave." If our system of government is once destroyed 
it can never be re-established. Never! never! 

"A thousand years scarce serve to form a state; 

An liour may lay it in the dust: and when 

Can man its shattered splendor renovate, 

Recall its virtue back, and vanquish Time and Fate?" 

But we should never once despair of our country. — 
There are yet disinterested patriots, who in prosperity 
or adversity, in storm or in sunshine, will steer the ves- 
sel of state proudly and gallantly into the harbor of 
safety. Cylla and Charybdis will be passed without 
difficulty, and the ship's crew stand out upon its top 
with joyous hearts, swelling the triumphant shouts that 
burst spontaneous from a consciousness of national supe- 
riority and glory. 

With a cotemporaneous orator, we agree that *'if 
there be any thing which can mingle consolation in the 
hopes and doubts of the patriot, whcm about to close his 
account with time and venture on the realities of eterni- 
ty, it would be, that in the last, anxious lingering look 
which marks the boundary of the present and the fu- 



54 LIFE AND CHAEACTER OF 

ture, he should behold his national standard, with all ita 
stars and stripes, proclaiming this union of the Slates 
one indissoluble and united Confederacy." 



CIPT. WM, B. ALLKR. 55. 



CHAPTER lY. 

Capt. Allen's standing in College — he commenc<>s reading Law 
— his general course of reading — his Speech and politics. 

Mr. Allen took his first degree with the entire appro- 
bation of the Faculty, and good-will of his fellow-stu- 
dents, as well as his numerous acquaintance in the city 
of Nashville. Few young men ever left the University 
with an equal reputation. In all the means and meth- 
ods usually resorted to by students at College, he had 
taken a leading part, and on retiring from the scene of 
his literary toils, he disrupted many tender ties. The 
room and class-mate, the antagonist and teacher, the li- 
braries and apparatus, the rooms and every object around 
him were dear, fi*om habitual associations, or use for 
years. But his career as a College student was ended, 
the books and cabinets, the places and persons with and 
from whom he liad partaken and derived the rich and 
varied intellectual treasures he delighted, must be left 
behind. His place at the domestic hearth, so long va- 
cant, awaited his occupancy. The family group in 
which he was so marked and loved a figure, were wait- 
ing to welcome him back again. The parents who had 
watched over his helpless infancy with fondest affection, 
who had rejoiced in the dawning promise of his youth, 
and had liberally supplied him with the means of im- 
provement, waited impatiently, with the rest of their 
family group, to see him, who was their eldest son and 
brother, once more take his place in their midst. They 



m 
rS LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

had heard, from rumor, that he had acquitted himself 
at College, with honor. The sound, of his praise was 
•pleasant to the parental and fraternal ear, because it 
came from the wise and jrood. 

Praise of the wise and goodi— it is a meed 
For whicli I would long years of toil endure — 
Which many a peril, many a grief, would cure. 

On his return home, Mr. Allen carried with him 
copies of Coke, Blackstone, and other elementary law 
books. Having made choice of law as a profession, he 
began, at once, to prepare himself, by vigorous and sys- 
tematic study of the standard authors, engaging as a 
recreation, in rural pursuits of his father's plantation. — 
His intention was to take an extensive range, and pre- 
pare himself by a patient and thorough examination, the 
basis, progress and present structure of our legal sys- 
tem, for an enlightened and efficient performance of the 
responsible duties of that honorable and useful profession- 
After perusing Blackstone and the Institutes of Jusli- 
nian, his reflections upon the marked differences, in 
many' important particulars, between the civil and the 
common law, were remarkably clear and cogent. Sev- 
eral of the rules of evidence and of propriety, in the 
common law, he condemned, as incompatible with our 
free institutions. His objections to the celebrated Rule 
in Shelly' s case, were such as vrould have commanded 
respectful attention before any of our courts. He was 
strongly impressed with the superior equity of the doc- 
trine of the civil law on contracts, and had reduced his 
observations to writing. It seems, however, that he 
subsequently destroyed these essays, as they have not 
been found among his papers since his death. 



CAPT. WM. B, ALLEK. 57 

In the midst of his favorite avocations, surrounded bv 
friends, from -»vhose society he had so long been sepa- 
rated, he fondly hoped to pursue the course of studies 
he had entered upon with so much ardor and promise, 
to their completion. The history of his own country, as 
well as those of the ancient republics, indicated this 
course as the highway to distinction and usefulness. In 
the silence and solitude of his study, he heard the 
voice of Demosthenes declaiming to the sea, to correct 
an impediment in his speech; he saw that orator copying 
the ponderous volumes of his country's best historian, 
10 form his style. He had listened with delight to the 
vehement eloquence with which the fiery Greek defend- 
ed the altar of liberty from the desecrations of Philip; 
and when driven by the persecutions of Atipater from 
the country he had sought to inspire with his own higli 
conceptions of the worth of freedom, he saw that unri- 
valled orator, unablPto find a refuge on earth, deliver 
Jiimself into the hands of his gods. Mingled with these 
exciting events, the story of Roman eloquence and song 
fell upon his ear, from the voice of Cicero and the pipe 
of Virgil. Accompanied by the applause of the world, 
the models of ancient excellence passed in grand review, 
each imparting a w^ord of encouragement to cheer the 
student on his way. From such a presence, with the 
elevating sentiments it inspired, the review of our own 
Anglo-Saxon annals, the fires of Smithfield and the 
blood of Charles, he turned to look over the long le- 
gends of colonial vassalage and our Revolutionary fields. 
There he contemplated with awe and reverence, the ma- 
jestic figures of our fathers. The sword of our Wash-, 
ingtons and Jacksons, the pen of Jefferson and Madison, 
Avith their immortal associates, charmed his vouns: heart. 



58 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

and filled his young soul with grand and glorious views 
of the human mind and its gigantic achievements, when 
directed by right intentions, aiming at worthy objects. 
Iletrospecting the whole range of past history, in every 
age and country, he saw that lasting honors, fame and 
fortune might be attained, only by qualifying himself to 
become useful to his fellow men. From this grand sur- 
vey, which he had just completed under the guidance 
of able teachers, he retired to his chosen pursuit, with 
a firm resolution to follow in the footsteps of those ex- 
alted men, whose history and principles he had tho- 
roughly studied and truly admired. 

Looting back over the past, and forward to the fu- 
ture, he firmly resolved to give himself up to honest 
and laborious cultivation of his mind. The achieve- 
ments of departed genius and worth gave him energy; 
the picture of his own future progress inspired him with 
hope. Having breathed the pure invigorating air of 
Helicon, and tasted the sweet waters of Castalia, liis 
soul was fired with the wish to know. To stand on the 
topmost peak of Parnassus, and see the utmost limits of 
the scientific horizon. 

The wisli to know — tlie endless thirst, 
AV'hich even bj quenching is awak'd, 

And which bcconaes or bless'd or curs'd 
As is the fount whereat 'tis slak'd. 

Instead of seeking for amusement in tlie fruitless waste 
of time, in the frivilous, often equivocal pursuits of 
young gentlemen of his age and circumstances, he con- 
tinued to apply himself to the pleasing and profitable 
study of his profession, and of poetry, liistory and the 
natural sciences. His chief attention was given to the 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEX. 59 

learned works of Coke, Bacon, Blackstonc and Kent; his 
liours of recreation to Botany, Geology and ^Mineralogy, 
for the pursuit of which the residence of his father was 
favorably situated. While seriously devoted to these 
favorite pursuits, he still kept up his social connections 
with the youth of his vicinity, and carried on, for one of 
liis age, an extensive correspondence with numerous 
friends in distant places. lie also wrote some of the 
best contributions published in some of the neighboring 
periodicals. He had scarcely adapted liirasclf to the 
sequestered situation chosen for the continuation of liis 
studies, when he was summoned from his books to ap- 
])ear before the people as an advocate for his country's 
rights, against the adverse opinions of some of our own 
citizens. Rumors were still rife of his successful Ora- 
torical performances during his residence in Kashville. 
The people, and the Congress of Texas, with almost 
unanimous voices, bad repeatedly asked to be admitted 
into our Union as a State. Our irovernment havinsf ac- 
ceeded to the demand, the two great parties into which 
our citizens are divided, either condemned or sanctioned 
the act, carrying the discussion of the question into 
every election, even for State offices. 

The investigation and discussion of tliis subject was 
connected with our claims to the territory of Oregon, and 
required a minute and extensive acquaintance with the 
colonial and diplomatic history of several remarkable pe- 
riods in the career of this country, and those with which 
it has had intercourse. At the same time, the contro- 
versies between the great parties involved other, almost 
all the great questions of political economy, and national 
and domestic policy. On the absorbing questions of 
finance, commerce, internal improvements and the right 



60 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

construction of the constitution, parties had always ex- 
isted, but were now more widely sundered and highly 
excited than ever before — except, perhaps, during the 
last war with England. 

With the principles, the acts and doings of these two 
great political parties into which our citzens are sepa- 
rated, it is not here intended to meddle, further than may 
be necessary to place the opinions and actions of our sub- 
ject in a proper point of view. 

Mr. Allen, adopting the principles of his father, had 
ranged himself on the side of that party to w^hich he be- 
longed. During the presidential canvass of 1 840, his po- 
sition as a student, did not require, or even permit him 
to engage in the contest. From his quiet, though not 
isolated position, at Halidon Hill, he had it in his power 
to take a calm, close view of passing events. He knew 
that every citizen, not only had the right to his own opin- 
ion on any subject involving the interests of the repub- 
lic, but the power to give elTect to such opinion. Being 
familiar with the history of the Greek and Roman repub- 
lics, he could readily compare passing events with past 
history— the present race of public men with those great 
names whose genius, eloquence and patriotism have been 
the unsurpassed models of all subsequent times and 
countries. It will be for the reader to infer -what judg- 
ment the frank and virtuous mind of an intelligent youth, 
such as Mr. Allen w^as, w^ould form of some of the men 
who then figured in front of the fiery fray. Having read 
the history of our Revolution and of its orators, states- 
men and warriors, and marked which of them, and in 
what quality they resembled the great patriots of the an- 
cient republics, the political arena of 1840, with its ex- 
cited dramatis personse, presented him a lesson as rich iu 



• 9 

CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN ' 61 

useful instruction as the Isthmian games, or Ludi Circen- 
ses, to the ancient student of human nature in Greece or 
Rome. For, whatever may have been the design of those 
pubHc orations, called stump-speeches, the manner in 
which and the men by whom they were then and since 
conducted, could have been not otherwise useful to the 
cause of truth than as mere exhibitions of mental — rather 
lingual — gladiatorial skill and cunning. During that 
stormy period, no historical fact, however well authenti- 
cated, no man's reputation, however well established, 
was regarded. Like some hungry hydra, the demon of 
party swept this fair land from Maine to Florida, from 
the Atlantic to the Pacific. And, like the hydra, its 
heads were numerous and indestructible. The very 
means used for its destruction opened fresh fountains of 
wrath and multiplied its power of raiscliief. Neither age, 
sex, nor services could shield the living, nor the sanctity 
of the grave shelter the dead. In its awful, sinuous and 
slimy march, all men and all things were forced to assist 
its progress, or fall amidst the immense mass of wreck 
and ruin that marks its passage. The tenderest ties of 
kindred and friendship, the joys of connubial life, and 
the very fane of faith, were rent, trampled down and 
overturned. 

High towers, fair temples, goodly theatres. 
Strong walls, rich porches, princely palaces. 
Fine streets, brave houses, sacred sepulchres, 
Sure gates, sweet gardens, stately galleries, 
All these, oh party! thou hast turned to dust. 
They're overgrown with black oblivious rust. 

Neither the long tried and well established maxims of 
political economy, finance or trade, nor the terrible re- 
collections of the ruinous consequences of disregarding 



6? LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

them, arrest the ruin or allay the storm. The voice of 
reason, the persuasions of truth were drowned in the 
tremendous clamor. In vain did moderate men seek to 
check or change the direction of that mighty tornado of 
passion and prejudice; in vain every appeal to the splen- 
did past, or promising future glory, honor and happi- 
ness of the republic ! On, on, on, the turbid torrent rolled , 
reo^ardless of restraint, ridit, reason, or the ruin that 
everywhere marked its course. 

That the young mind of the true-hearted and right- 
minded Allen should regard this wild wordy war with 
feelings of astonishment and indignation, was natural.—- 
His emotions, all fresh and pure from the unadulterated 
fountains of nature, he listened to some of the leading or- 
ators of the day with wondering awe, mingled with con- 
tempt and wrath. On comparing the sentiments and pa- 
triotism of these windy, mindless, principleless declaimers 
with the men of the old republics, or with our ownhigh- 
souled Revolutionary fathers, he saw few, or none, of 
those great and shining qualities of mind and heart that 
had commanded his own confidence and respect, and 
which he supposed ought to have had the Sc.me effect on 
other minds. The manner in which he expressed his 
opinion of the party action of his countrymen, in several 
letters to his friends, and essays for the press, gave a 
pleasing proof of his sterling integrity, sound judgment 
and manly patriotism. In conversation and correspon- 
dence with his friends, he frequently remarked that he 
could not appreciate the patriotism, or even discretion of 
those political gladiators, who from every stump, tra- 
duced the character and detracted from the great actioTis 
of some of our patriot-fathers, whose virtue, knowledge 
and services, have given them a renown as wide as the 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. ♦ (.3 

world and r^s long as time. Xor could he refrain froin 
doubling the motives and faith of men who professed to 
admire, as great and superior, some of the most equiv- 
ocal specimens of our race. 

As a student of his country's history, his readin-:^ 
tauo'ht him to revere the character and be ffrafeful for 
the services of some of the men, living and dead, whoni 
he heard denounced, by partizaa orators, for the basest 
conduct and most unpatriotic designs. In this category 
were names of those belonging to both parties, but much 
the largest number to one of them. lie felt called on, 
under such circumstances, to review his opinions. He 
did so, and guided by the reconls of history, rather than 
tlie passion and ribaldry of parly, the result of his inqui- 
ries attached him still more firmly to principles he had 
already adopted from an honest conviction of their truth. 
In a speech made in Lawrence county, near the resi- 
dence of his father in the Spring of 1845, he gave utter- 
ance to his opinions on this subject, in nearly the follow- 
ing words: 

"The pictured pages of Livy and other r.ncicnts, have 
held up for the admiration or execration of all future 
(iuies, the good and bad men engaged in high official 
s ations in those times. The great and good men whom 
they admired, were commended by their fellow-citizens, 
fur acquirements and actions when then indicated, and 
will ever indicate their wisdom and worth. The same 
great qualities which prompted those ancient worthies in 
their usefulness, will command the admiration and re- 
pect of all good men, so long as virtue and truth shall be 
esteemed. The sages and patriots of our own country, 
who practised the same virtues, displayed the same lal- 



'J 4 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

ents and perforraed similar actions among uSj have re- 
ceived, and should continue to receive our sincerest grat- 
gratitude and respect. What can it signify to men, 
knowing and loving the truth, how party spite and hate 
may revile the memory of our Jeffersons and Jacksons, 
our Adams' and Clays. There stand the enduring ms^n- 
uments of their presence and performances; there^ are 
the pictures history, impartial history, has drawn of them. 
In regard to some of them we yet have the traditions of 
fathers, all concurring in commendation of those whom 
mad ambition and party rancor now assail. Let us, my 
friends, stand by the old paths. We know that our Rev- 
olutionary fathers were pure patriots. They would never 
have recommended to the confidence of their offspring, 
men and sentiments so base and false, as party men now 
assert those were and are. No, no, no. Our patriot- 
fathers knew who and what they esteemed was worthy, 
and they have commended to us only truth and virtue, 
and their ablest advocates. We should not, we will 
never surrender the renowned names and shining actions 
of our revolutionary patriots to the aimless eulogy, or to 
the angry, groundless execrations of mere partizans. If 
their contemporaries esteemed and trusted them, and 
have transmitted their names to us as patriots, they were 
worthy. If worthy then, not all the malevolent eloquence 
of pandemonium should — shall it? — wring them from 
our embraces." 

As a student of political economy, Mr. Allen knew that 
the wisest and best patriots who formed the Constitution, 
of the Union, repeatedly refused to insert in that instru- 
ment a power for Congress to charter a Bank. He 
knew, as all may know who will read history, that Mr. 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 65 

Luther Martin, a delegate to the Convention of 17o7, 
from the State of Maryhmd, and several other distin- 
guished members complained to their constituents, and 
that some of them left the Convention because it refused 
to insert this power in the Constitution. He knew that 
the same arguments for and against paper money — es- 
pecially when to be issued by the government — had been 
urged before the Convention; that paper money proved 
injurious to every country which had used it, and that it 
had been the cause of immense injury in our own coun- 
try during the Revolution and since. He knew that 
Washington, Madison and Jefferson had discountenanced 
its manufacture by the Federal Government, and that 
these and other of the Revolutionary patriots, feared the 
advocates of paper money would persuade the people to 
reject the Constitution, because it withheld from Congress 
the poicer to charter a Bank, and that some of our sages 
have written arguments against giving such power to 
Congress, that never have been answered or attempted 
to be answered.* Resting his political faith upon these 
unquestioned and unquestionable authorities, Mr. Allen 
became an ardent and bold friend of the men who imder- 
took to sustain the opinions and measures he approved. 
Few men of his age were listened to by the popular as- 
semblies with more attention; none enjoyed a larger 



* Opinion of Jefferson, Secret Debates, pp. 9, 57, 79, 220, 
24G ami 256. Madisou Papers, III, pp. 129. 1344 to 1346, 1442, 
1542 and 1G15. Washington's Writings, IX, pp. 187, 231, 23.'^ 
and 24G. The venerable H. L. White, in his celebrated speech 
of 1832, cited tliese authorities, and adopted tliem as a jusb 
expression of his opinions. The subject was at that time fully 
discussed in Congress, by the press and on the stump, during 
the canvass of General Jackson for his second terra, and the 
people clearly adopted the views of Jeflferson. 
E 



6S UfFE AND CriARACTZR OF 

bhare of their confidence. Treating the opinions and 
character of antagonists with courtesy and respect, he 
was never known to have drawn upon him their enmity; 
but while he combated their opinions, he maintained 
* with them the most friendlv relations. 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN, 67 



CHAPTER V. 

Capt. Alien is nominated for tlie Legislature — His position^ on 
tlae Oregon and Texas questions — His Election. 

In the Spring of 1845, when scarcely eligible by Lis 
age for a seat in the General Assembly, he was nomi- 
nated by the people of his County, and elected their 
Representative, over a competitor of long standing and 
superior advantages. The canvass was conducted with 
great activity on both sides. The subjects discussed 
took in the whole range of State and National questions, 
the domestic and foreign pohcy and relations of the 
country; but the occupation of Oregon and the annexa- 
tion of Texas, Avere by far the most exciting, as they 
were the most important topics at that time. 

The claim of the United States to Oregon, was, by 
the party to which Mr. Allen belonged, said to be clear 
and unquestionable, from the 42° of North latitude, to 
54'^ 40^ This claim rested on the Spanish title, as the 
iirst discoverers and occupants, as well as upon the dis- 
covery of Captain Grey, an American mariner who ranged 
the coast, landing at several points in 1791. The Span- 
ish claim to the first discovery of Oregon, goes back to 
the year 1542. Friar Nica, a few years before, reported 
to the Viceroy of New Spain, that he had visited a rich 
and populous country lying North of New Spain. A 
fleet under Alarcon, and a land party under Coronado, 
were sent by the Viceroy to conquer the country. Again 
in 1542, the same officer sent Cabrillo on a voyage of 



68 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

discovery along the West coast of California. He pro- 
ceeded as far North as 42^. * 

In 1688, Maldonado pretended to have sailed from the 
Atlantic to the Pacific, via Hudson's Strait and a West- 
ern passage in 75° North hititiide. This voyage, as 
■well as that of Juan de Fuca, who is said to have made 
the same passage, was long considered fabulous, but 
more recent explorations render them probable. Van- 
couver afterwards, (in 1791,) attached Juan's name to 
the Strait, which it still bears. In 1775, Heceta Bodega 
y Quadra, sent by the Viceroy of Now Spain, explored 
the Western coast as far as 67° 68 '.f The next visitor 
was Captain Grey, who took the sloop Washington, of 
Boston, into the Straits of Fuca, in 1788, and in the Co- 
lumbia, in 1791, discovered the celebrated river to which 
he gave the name of his vessel. During the latter year, 
Malispina was sent to explore the Nor t- western coast, 
and the next year other voyages were made for the same 
purpose, and to verify the statement of Maldonado. All 
these explorations were made by Spain, who had also 
some stations on the coast before any oth-er nation. In 
1789, McKenzie crossed the Rocky Mountains from Ca- 
nada, and reached the Pacific in 66° North — beyond the 
limits of Oregon. In 1804-1806, Captains Lewis and 



*It was not until 1578, that Sir Francis Drake ranged the 
same coast, from SS*^ to 4.3'^. 

fThis point is nearly four degrees ISTorlli of the IS^orth boun- 
dary of Oregon. It was not till 1776, that Cook made his voy- 
age. He began his survey in Nootka Sound, and proceeded 
Nortliward. The Russian's had made some voyages 1727 and 
1741, under Behring. They also discovered the Allentian and 
Fox Islands, but probably visited no pait of the present terri- 
tory of Oregon. Hearne in 1770-1772, reached the mouth of 
the Coppermine river, in about 69*^ North latitude. 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. C9 

Clarke were sent by the then President, Mr. Jefferson 
to explore the country. They passed the Rocky Moun- 
tains at about the 4G° degree, and descended the Colum- 
bia to its moulh. Not long afterwards, an establishment 
was founded at the mouth of the Columbia, by Mr. 
Astor, of New York, which was continued until cap- 
tured by a British force during the last war with that 
power. The British retained possession until 1818, 
when they surrendered it back to us under the provis- 
ions of the treaty. 

From this view, it is seen that if any one discovered 
Oregon, it was not England. Spain undoubtedly made 
the iirst explorations and the first settlements. The ex- 
})loration of Lewis and Clarke, in conjunction with the 
voyage of Pike up the Arkansas and Red rivers, were 
designed by the sage of Monticello, to acquire a correct 
knowledge of the extensive tract then recently acquired 
by us, under the name of Louisiana. The historical 
reader and politician will remember that the opponents 
of Mr. Jefferson opposed this acquisition, and predicted 
all manner of evils to the Union in consequence of its 
enlargement. The reports of the expedition were ridi- 
culed, and the facts stated disputed. The idea of a mass 
of iron, salt or copper, now so well known, existing in 
those distant regions, was made the .subject of jesi and 
caricature. The sentiments and opinions then diffused, 
in spite of their known fallacy, are still urged upon the 
people with as much pertinacity and as little truth or 
reason as at first. 

During his canvass before the people for a seat in the 
Legislature, Mr. Allen affirmed, and his antagonist de- 
nied the claim of the United States to Oregon, as found- 
ed on the foregoing historical facts and references. In 



70 LIFE AKD CHARACTER OP 

several of liIs speeches, lie Qispln3^c(I .in nccuratc and 
•niinulc knowledge of this part of our history, that rc- 
ilccted great credit on him, and tended to enlighten the 
public mind, and disabused it from the fallacious and 
factious fabrications of careless and ill informed minds. 
It was assumed by the party to which he was opposed; 

1. That Ave had no color or claim to Oregon, never 
liaving occupied, discovered or claimed it as part of our 
territory. 

2. That if it wereourslt was worthless, and too distant 
and inaccessible to warrant a contest with England for 
its possession. 

3. That to take possession of Oregon w^ould subject 
our commerce to be swept from the Ocean, and the 
■whole of our maritime towns to be ravaged and burnt 
by the British fleets. 

In reply to the first proposition, Mr. Allen, in com- 
mon with his party, contended that our claim rested on 
a clear and soimd title, either as derived from Spain, or 
in our own right. The right of Spain rested on her first 
discovery, exploration and occupation of the coast from 
California to Vancouver or Quadra Island, as far JSTorth 
as 58°, before any other nation had visited or claimed 
the country. This claim had passed to us by treaty. — 
In addition to this. Captain Grey, an American mariner, 
discovered the river Columbia, and if any part of this 
Continent remained still open for occupation — which he 
denied — we must hold it according to the acknowledged 
rules, long established and acted on by the first occupy- 
ing nations. 

The first of these rules is — That the discovery and 
settlement of the mouth of a river entering the Ocean, 
i^ivcs the discoverer a right to the lands on both banks 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 71 

nf such river and its tributaries, from its mouth to its 
source. 

The second rule is — That the right so acquired pre- 
cludes any other nation from interfering with, or pur- 
chasing land from the Indians, located within said limits. 

The third rule is — That where another nation shall 
have a settlement on the same coast where such a dis- 
covery and settlement is made, the middle point between 
their settlements, on the coast, shall be the dividing line. 

These positions were assumed to be the settled rules 
of national law, by Mr. Adams in his discussions with 
Mr. Onis, the Spanish Minister, pending the Spanish 
treaty for the cession of Florida to us, and Texas to Spain. 
Onis admitted them, as did Mr. Clay in his speech on 
the treaty, in the Senate; and it is believed they have 
never been questioned by any nation since their incor- 
poration into the law of nations. Tested by these rules, 
our title to Oregon is infinitely better than that of Eng- 
land to many of her vast colonial possessions. 

In reply to the second assumption, that the possession 
of Oregon was not worth a contest, it might have been 
sufficient to ask, if we were to suffer even a worthless 
part of our territory to be Avrested from us, what would 
our national character be worth? But time and events 
have placed numerous and cogent arguments in our 
power. The trade in peltries, carried on across the fro- 
zen regions of the Northern part of the Continent, has 
been the source of immense wealth to those so engaged. 
They have shipped their supplies from Europe via Ca- 
nada, and sent them into the interior by means of ca- 
noes and on the backs of Indians, and received their 
returns in peltries, on the Atlantic, by the same mode of 
conveyance, subject to numerous delays and dangers of 



7t LIFE -^ND CHARACTER OF 

the sea, lakes, rivers and the savages along their route, 
fuid then transmitted their furs and peltries by sea to 
Europe, China or elsewhere for a market. This course 
of trade, besides the dangers, involved a vast -waste of 
time and means. Yet it was profitable — more so than 
many other branches of commerce. Had the British 
companies who carried it on, been at liberty to avail 
themselves of a more Southern route, in a milder cli- 
mate, and of our rivers for transportation, the dangers 
and delays would have been diminished and the profits 
augmented. These advantages are secured to our citi- 
zens, t'^ho, by the exclusion of foreigners, will enjoy the 
Indian trade in our own limits without competition, — 
During the joint use of ours and the British people, the 
best positions became the subject of controversy, ending 
in violence, often in outrages on persons and property of 
the most heinous character. All these evils are removed 
by our occupation, and our citizens can, as they are al- 
ready beginning to do, proceed directly from the mouth 
of the Columbia to China, Australia and the East Indies 
with their peltries, and bring their return cargoes to the 
market without the necessity of transhipment, and in 
much shorter time and less risk of every kind. If the 
trade of this region was an object to those who conduct- 
edit under so many disadvantages, it surely must be more 
valuable to us who may pursue it under more favorable 
circumstances. Nor is this all. The heights of the 
Rocky Mountains will be passed by Rail-roads, opening 
a short and safe commercial way from the Atlantic 
cities to the ports of China and the East, whence the 
teas, spices and other goods of those countries may reach 
our markets in six or eight weeks instead of eight or 
twelve months. By this route the Eastern goods will 



*"'CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 7^ 

reach us fresher, and -will be cheaper than T\'hen comin^f 
by way of the old route, round the Cape of Good Hope 
or Cape Horn. These advantages must make a change 
in tlie course of trade to the Asiatic countries. Instead 
of sending to Europe for Eastern goods, our merchants 
-will furnish the markets of Europe. The great desider- 
atum wliich led to the discovery of America — the search 
for a more direct way to the East — will liave been sup- 
plied. This way will pass from the Atlantic to the Pa- 
cific through the centre of our country. The routes via 
the Isthmus of Suez and the Red Sea will be abandoned. 
Instead of the ships of England and Bedouin camels, our 
steam cars and boats will become the carriers in this im- 
mense trade. The immense amount of timber, coal and 
iron abounding along the new line of travel, will appre- 
ciate in value, and vast quantities now wasted or un- 
saleable vv'ill become a source of wealth. The tall trees 
of Oregon, its cereals will accompany its peltries to the 
ports of China, and be there exchanged for teas, rich 
stufi^ and specie. The iron, copper and lead of Mis- 
.souri, with the coal of Ohio, Pennsylvania and Vir^nnia, 
will swell the flood of commerce to which the new route 
will give new impetus, new means, new objects and im- 
mense increase. 

To the third assumption, that a controversy with Eng- 
land would lead to the destruction of our commercial and 
maritime towns, it was sufficient to ask if our flag must 
})e lowered merely to appease the growling of the Brit- 
ish lion. National honor must be maintained at every 
hazzard. 

With these and similar arguments, Mr. Allen met lii.s 
antagonist before the people, who heard him evervwhere 
with pleased attention. The annexation of Texas led to 



74 LIFE AND CHARACTER CW 

discussions as animated, perhaps more so, because the 
supposed danger was nearer, and for that reason greater. 
This was the leading question, while it was pendin^:^, 
throughout the Union. Its nature and magnitude, the 
immense interests and consequences involved in its de- 
cision, the alledged efforts of European powers to con- 
trol the decision, all tended to increase the excitement 
which pervaded the popular mind. 

In the discussion of the Annexation of Texas, the heart 
as well as the head of Mr. Allen was warmly enlisted. 
It was his enthusiasm on this question which hurried him, 
whilst a college student, to forget the rules of the insti- 
tution and to enter the arena of public debate. It was a 
subject well calculated to fire the enthusiasm of a young 
man of ardent temperament. He was famihar with the 
outrages which had been perpetrated upon the early 
Texas settlers. He had sympathised deeply with them 
in their sufferings. He had Avatched with earnest solici- 
tude their struggles with the Indians and Mexicans — 
their valor had won his warmest admiration, and their 
brilliant victory of San Jacinto had enshrined them in his 
heart as noble heroes and patriots. He had been taught 
bv his father to admire the character of the £:allant hero 
of that splendid victory. He cherished for the people of 
Texas the affection awarded to kindred. 

With such feelings, Mr. Allen entered the canvass for 
the Legislature with the flag of *'the lone star" streaming 
over his head. He had hailed the application of Texas 
for admission into the Union with joy, and all the energies 
of his enthusiastic soul were engaged in her cause. It 
need not be said that on such a theme he was eloquent — 
the theme itself was eloquent. A few brave adventurers 
had left their liomes and their kindred in the United 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLETf 75 

1?tate.=5, and through scenes of blood and carnage they 
had conquered a Ptepubhc from the Indians and Mexi- 
cans. They now returned to their father-land and t<?n- 
dered an empire as the reward of their sufferings and 
valor. The question was, whether the tender should be 
accepted, or whether these noble sons of noble sires should 
be spurned and rejected? The generous hearts of the 
American people were open for their reception, but the 
voice of party policy was raised against it. This was the 
leading issue in the Presidential contest of 1844, and the 
result was the annexation of Texas to the United States. 
To justify this result \/as the business of Mr. Allen in his 
canvass for the Legislature. 

In the investigation of this subject Mr. Allen brought to 
bear a depth of research, a power of reasonmg and a 
force of eloquence which rendered his speeches irresisti- 
ble. He showed that by the law of nations, Texas had 
won an indisputable title to her Independence — a title 
wliich even Mexico had not dared to contest for nine 
years — a title as incontrovertible as that on which rested 
the claim of the United States to national existence — a 
title which had been freely recognized by all the leading 
powers of the old world. Tie exposed the pretensions 
set up by Mexico to the sovereignty of Texas , and adduced 
strong reasons for believing that other governments were 
seeking to profit by defeating her annexation to the 
United States. He treated the threats of invasion made 
by Mexico with contempt, and insisted that if the ques- 
tion was divested of its party character in the United 
States, no Mexican army would ever have the temerity or 
the folly to invade the soil of Texas. He showed that 
the question as to whether the Rio Grande or the Neuces 
was the true boundary of Texas belonged alone to th« 



•yi" LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

politicians of the United States, whilst the government of 
Mexico set up a claim to the whole territory of Texas. — 
He insisted that if Mexico should be so rash or so foolish 
as to make war for the re-conquest of Texas, the people 
of the United States would be bound by every principle 
of justice and honor to resist and punish the invaders. — • 
He entered fully and eloquently into the question of sla- 
very as connected v/ith the extension of our territory, 
maintaining that the adoption of the Missouri Compro- 
mise line in the resolutions of annexation ought to be ac- 
quiesced in as equitable by the whole country. His argu- 
ments on the general question of enlarging our territorial 
limits by new acquisitions were profound and unanswer- 
able. He maintained that the fears entertained by some 
politicians from giving too great an extent to our territory 
were without foundation, and that under the federative 
feature in our Constitution, new States may be safely add- 
ed until our republic shall reach from ocean to ocean, 
and the Union will remain as firm as ever. 

These were the leading subjects of national moment 
discussed by Mr. Allen in his canvass, and these were 
some of the positions which he enforced. In regard to 
local subjects, his attention was directed fmainly to the 
rights and interests of the occupant settlers, many of 
whom resided in his county. On this subject he felt a 
deep concern, and it may be safely said, that the occu- 
pants never had a more sincere and ardent advocate. — 
He had been reared amongst them, he understood their 
character thoroughly, he knew their rights, and he fully 
comprehended the claims which they had on the govern- 
ment for protection. His own open, frank, generous and 
ardent nature was to the occupants the best guaranty 
that in his hands they would have a faithful friend. 



1 

CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 7^ 

There were circumstances connected with the contest 
between Mr. Allen and Mr. Buchanan, which gave to it 
unusual interest at home and abroad. Mr. Allen was 
barely eligible by his age to a seat in the Legislature. — 
His competitor was in the meridian of life, a gentleman 
of unimpeachable character, having been honored by the 
people of Lawrence again and again, and having filled witli 
distinguished credit the office of Speaker of the House of 
llepresentatives. His reputation for talents was well es- 
tablished not only in his own county but throughout the 
State, and his popularity was such, that he was generally 
regarded as invincible. In this election the political 
complexion of the State was conceded on both sides to be 
doubtful, and the result in the county of Lawrence might 
turn the scale. Under such circumstances the selection 
of so young a man as Mr. Allen to contend against such 
fearful odds, shows how strongly he had secured tho 
confidence of his political friends. He accepted the nom- 
ination with reluctance, because he doubted his ability 
to meet the crisis successfully, but having yielded to the 
earnest appeals of his friends, he entered upon the work 
with an energy and enthusiasm which gave strong assu- 
rances of success. It was one of the most animated, ex- 
citing and interesting contests that has ever taken place 
in the State. To the last moment it was doubtful on 
which side victory would fall, and when the votes were 
counted it was found that Mr. Allen had triumphed by 
six votes! The result was hailed throughout the State 
l)y his political friends as a most brilliant achievement. 
By the result he had established a character for indomi- 
table energy and perseverance, for unspotted integrity, 
for high and commanding talents, and for enthusiastic 
devotion to democratic principles. His name was famil- 



T$ UFK AND CHARACTER OF 

iar to his political friends in every part of the State, and 
when the Legislature met he Avas abtonished to tind how 
deep an interest had been felt in his success. 



7« 



CHAPTER VI. 

Cai>t. Allon'B courKC in the LegJHJature— IIih speech on the Oc- 
cupant Quchlion — iti,'tiiri»Mto hih Law liookb — Call for Yulun- 
Icerh — iiJK hpC'C'cli on th'i War. 

When llie Gr^neral AHscinbly convt'ned on the Ut Mon- 
flay of Oclobor lo4.0, Mr. All<:n took liis seat as a mem- 
ber. He wastlje youn;;^e«t Keprebeutative in the Houfee, 
and was elected under cireuniHtances well calculated to 
excite the vanity of one whose mind was not well bal- 
anced. No Huch effect, liowever, wa« obnervable in the 
conduct of Mr. Allen. His demeanor was modest, re- 
tirinir and unas^umiu;^. Jle listened cheerfullv to the 
counsels of experience, and he profited by it. He fully 
comprehended the importance to himself of a courw; 
which should comport with liis age, and hence he made 
it a point to address the House but seldom, and when he 
did speak, to be prepared. In his intercourse with mem- 
bers, lie was easy and sociable; in his manners, open, 
frank and sincere in his conversation; strictly virtuous in 
liis sentiments, and scrupulously moral in his association* 
and habits. His speeches on evitvy occasion evinced 
mature reflection and profound thought. He was scru- 
pulously regular in his attendance upon the sittings of 
the House, and always watchful as to the progress of 
business. Whilst he constantly increased his reputation 
for talents, he secured the name of a business member. 
It is impossible for the writer to allude to various in- 
teresting measures of legislation^ in the discu^s.ioa. aX 



PO LTFin ANO UHARAUTKJt OF 

whicih J\1r. Allrn look a i»ruiniae%t parL lUit we (wnjiiioL 
luni-it. llu) jdt'HHUit'. «»r ruruniii.L-' fhjiociiilly (o liiii courhn 
on tho quoHtioii ..I' |M(t(.tiotin«^' I ho riyliU ol' lli« ()c',cu|iitnt, 
fjotllors. On lliiH Hubjtict ho I'oh. niid nuiaih'Hlrd a (lo<p 
hoHciluih', Hiitl hi.4 KoulinuuilH will he luuu.l lully ix- 
prbtiBoil in tlio I'ltUowinM' ablo Hpot'ch, (U'IivckmI hy hiiu 
in Uio UouHu o( lu'i>tt'..si'iilat.iveH : 

JJiaiAJJKS OK MR. ALLIilN, 
On un mmmlmnt off eyed hy hmnel/ to a Manor iul J'rvin 
the Smale, In nyuni to the rnUlc Lands, 
Mrt. ^iriCAKiui: — it mouuih (o luo lliat tl>o pvimo object 
l")r wliich the moiuuvial jusl lotul was iiiloiith'J, ha.s 
hvc[\ .'iilirely ovorloukotj. it muvoly a.ska Lho Uun^a-uHH 
of thi'. LlaitoJ iSLatoa for a ifliniiuislnnciit of the vacant 
ami lofuso lauds to il»o Slair «.!' 'rniii.'sM'c. lor llu^ u[h'.- 
cilii; purpOfciO of eadowiaj^' niid hiiildiii- up a (Jollouo iu 
tho VVt'Htorn Dhitiict. al, jMid.si.u. I will not oIIVt vt-a- 
Soua \v)»y au auioiml ..f huly IIkmi-uiiuI dollar:! riludl not 
be grautod to (hat divi.siou of lho ►Statu lor tiio vory lavul- 
ablo object proposed iu tlio uu'Uiurial. Hut I do caruost- 
ly insifit on luy auu'Uiluuud^, aBkiug hu- a prolounaliou ol 
time allowed to oucupaut hohlcrs to iuako payui«'ut for 
their flaiuis. It wouUl bo a mere reiteration of senli- 
n^ent cxpreaHod by uie ou a foruu'r occaaiou, to .say ibai 
T am in favor of tho pa^«.sago of a uu'morial that has for 
its object an extension of the tiiut-. allowed to settlers to 
pay for their oocnpants at llu* piice lixed by au iut ol 
Congveaa, under wITudi 'rrnurN.see is constituted the 
agent of tho Ui>vernaunt o( the I'nded States, to issue 
grants and perfect titles to the Hanie. The resolutions 
which 1 had tho hoiujr of introducing, raising a select 
committee, with instruction:, to report favorably in behall 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 8 



i* 



<}f occupancy, evince the feeling by which I am actuated 
in securing to those upon public land the peaceful and 
undisturbed possession of their homes. But for this in- 
centive, I should not have presumed to tax the patience 
of the House v\^ith a single remark. A consciousness of 
imperative duty to those whose wishes I have the honor 
of representing upon this floor, demands that I should 
not be silent under such circumstances as those by which 
I am encompassed. To let the subject pass without an 
expression of my humble convictions, I would feel as if 
I were faithless and insincere towards an enlightened 
constituency. This is no new question. It has hitherto 
excited the faithful and studious attention of the purest 
and best men of the land, and it calls upon uSy in lan- 
guage not equivocal, to give further indulgence to set- 
tlers to pay for their occupants. I do not believe, and 
never can, without contradictory testimony, that Repre- 
sentatives upon this floor are disposed to resist a call 
that strikes, with such force upon their minds, and agi- 
tates every noble feeling that belongs to our nature. 

The exigency of the occasion — the unenviable con- 
dition of our people resting upon the precarious tenures 
by which their homes are held — and the inevitable force 
of circumstances too powerful to be disregarded, demand 
that the Legislature should, as far as it can, interpose 
its arm to protect them from the unjust encroachments 
of the speculator. These things speak a language that 
commands merited respect — a language that appeals to 
us cogently and persuasively. They ask, they implore 
us, sir, who are the legitimate guardians of their inter- 
ests, not to reject the petitions that are emanating from 
every cottage in the western and a portion of the middle 
division of our noble and chivalrous State — petitions, 
F 



^ LIFE AND CnARACTER OF 

upon an inconsiderate rejection of wliicL, many warm 
hearts will be made to bleed, and many industrious and 
virtuous families bereft of the "sweets of a home." — 
Coming, as I do, fresh from the society of those about 
whom I have been speaking', I cannot be insensible of 
the embarrassing circumstances that attend them. They 
are, it is true, poor, but strictly and rigidly honest. — 
They participate alike with you, sir, and every disinter- 
ested patriot in this broad land, in whatever conduces to 
exalt and dignify the. American character. They ab- 
jure, in truth and in fact, oppression under any of its 
Protean forms and disguises. At all times and under 
every emergency, they hold themselves in readiness to 
defend their honored and beloved country from the un- 
provoked and ruthless attacks of an insulting foe. Many 
of them have already given indication of their inherent 
devotion to their country on 4jie memorable plains of New 
Orleans and other sanguinary conllicts in that war, which 
reflected a radiancy of glory around that proud State 
in whose emporium we are now convened. But why 
speak of these things? Are they not fresh and vivid in 
the recollection of every member entitled to a seat upon 
this floor? 

Mr. Speaker, they claim nothing for what they have 
done or suffered. Patriotism is ever disinterested, and 
asks no remuneration for its sacrifices. Its fires will 
ever burn upon the altar of brave hearts when liberty it- 
self is no more. Considerations of this character may 
pass for what they are worth. I have repeated, that the 
mass of the people South and West of the CongTCSsional 
Keservation Line, are poor. In confirmation of this as- 
servation, I need only appeal to those whose opportunities 
have been sufficient to ascertain their true condition. — 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 99 

They all unite with me in expressing the conviction that 
they will not be able to save their occupants by the fir.s^ 
of next July. 

In such an emer^^cncy, the question naturally arises;, 
what is to be done? What can be eft'ected most conge- 
nial to the wishes of the people, and compatible with the 
interest of the country? Shall we, can we say, that be- 
cause they have had sufficent time and failed, they shall 
have no further indulgence? Our government will be 
influenced by no such pallry considerations. She will 
ever throw the broad, impenetrable segis of protec- 
tion around her own patriotic citizens. Under existing 
circumstances, what policy is it best for us to adopt? The 
pioneer settler is not to be neglected. Shall the only rav 
of comfort that dawns upon him from a cloudless sun be 
obscured by Legislative indifference? The question is 
not difficult of solution. No man can brook the thought 
of thousands of our fellow-citizens being unceremoniously 
dispossessed of their homes — of being snatched away, 
ruthlessly and mercilessly, from those sacred and fascin- 
ating retreats around which memory lingers with de- 
light. It is too revolting to the feelings — too painful for 
endurance. We hope for better things. We anxiously 
look forward to brighter and more halcyon days. The 
unobtrusive cottage upon some bleak hill or solitary 
waste, be it ever so humble, is a palace to the poor man. 
It belongs to him — to hini and his children after him. — 
That by granting further extension of time they will be 
better able to indemnify their claims, we cherish the most 
gratifying and reasonable hope. Unless indulgence i^ 
afforded, it is useless to disguise the fact that the condi- 
tion of the occupant claimant will be deplorable. This is 
no stretch of the imagination. It is truth unvarnished 
and unadorned. 



8^4" LIFE AND CHARACTER OP 

The better and larger portion of our public domain has 
already been occupied at the government price, and the 
**rest and residue" is generally of a refuse character. It 
may be years to come before it would be settled under 
the provision of the present undefined law. Every con- 
sideration of policy and expediency require a further re- 
duction in the price. It will greatly advance the interest 
of the State in various ways, which I will not noio stop to 
consider. Upon the broad grounds of expediency, we 
base the success of this question. 

When our country is invaded by an insulting foe — 
when our soil is desecrated by the approach of a tyrant 
who boastingly threatens destruction and carnage — when 
the green graves of our immortal ancestry, who fought 
the battles of freedom, whose blood stained the field of 
valor and won for them undying glory, are to be disturb- 
ed — dishonored — whose sword is it that leaps instantane- 
ously from its scabbard to repel the invader? — whose arm 
lis not nerved for the conflict, and whose bosom is not 
.ready to breast the fury of the storm? The humble and 
obscure citizen, unknown to fortune and to fame, in whom 
patriotism is a virtue, and cowardice a crime, tenders his 
services at the first call, and forsakes family and friends 
to rescue his country from impending danger, or nobly 
perish in the trial. 

This is the man around whom we desire the govern- 
ment to throw the panoply of its protection. There is no 
violation of faith, nor constitution — no tarnishing of na- 
tional escutcheons — no obhteration of the stars and 
stripes that form a constellation upon our eagle-banner, 
connected with the successful termination of this trans- 
cendently important question. I have viewed it in all its 
dimensions and proportions, and am ready to sustain it. 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 96i 

I know that the fearful destiny of thousands hang sus- 
pended upon our deliberation upon this subject. Let us 
pass this memorial, with the amendment, and in time to 
come the people will bless our memories for it. As for 
myself, I can return home to the bosom of a proud and 
free constituency, and tell them upon this question I was 
not ignorant of my duty, and knowing I discharged it 
faithfully and fearlessly." 

Upon the adjournment of the Legislature, early in 
1846, Mr. Allen returned to his home in Lawrence 
county. He was greeted by his constituents with a cor- 
dial welcome, and a hearty approval of the manner in 
which he had discharged the trust committed by them to 
his hands. He had faithfully redeemed every pledge lie 
had made to them, and had shown that their confidence 
in him was not misplaced. Many who had been polit- 
ically opposed to him, were foremost in awarding to him 
their warm approval of the industry, ability and fidehty 
with which he had served them and watched over their 
interests. That which a patriotic public servant most 
highly prizes — the voluntary and hearty approbation of 
liis constituents — it was the fortune of Mr. Allen to enjoy. 
He had the high gratification of knowing that his labors 
were appreciated, and that he had added greatly to his 
prosperity. 

It had been the purpose of Mr. Allen when he closed 
his collegiate course, to qualify himself for the legal pro- 
fession. In consenting to become a candidate for the 
Legislature, he did not abandon the profession. When 
his labors as a Legislator terminated, he turned his at- 
tention with promptness and avidity to his law books, 
looking forward with anxiety to the time when he could 



m 



unz AND cuAUArncn ok 



enU'rupon (ho prolosNioii to Avhicli he li:ul ilodicatod liis 
hte. The study of the h\w is usually iv<^nrded as dry 
and unlntorosting, but to Mr. A lieu it was not so. Ih; 
found nothino- forhiddino- in ilu' ahstniso pa^es of JJlaok- 
stuno. ^VhiLst ho wasciianucd with tlio boauly and pu- 
rity of liis stylo, lio found in Ids volumes, the dovelop- 
niont of a scionoo which lostod upon the labors of nianv 
of the most exalted intelUrts that ever lived, lie did not 
lake up his law book as he would a novel — to g-o through 
the meohanieal jn-ocess of ninninf^" his eves over tlie 
pngesj and g-athorino; at a o-lanee the (Invad of the story. 
and in a liand-<'aiK>p (raeiiio' it to its iinal (knvvnncnf. 
He took up his book as a student, rcmemberini^ that 
%vhathe was about to read hail cost (he master-spirits of 
the profession years of intellectual toil, and knowiiu^ that 
the beauties of the science could only be ap|)recia(ed by 
a tliorouo-h comprehension of the eternal principles of 
right and justice, which lay at the foundation of the sys- 
lem. The study of the J.aw is irksome only to those 
Avho are averse to mental labors; but Mr, Allen derived 
his highest pleasure from that inlense application of the 
mind which develops hiilden trulhs, and hence he neither 
yawneil over lUackstone nor dreamed over Chitty, but 
read and studied them with delight. He engaged in tlie 
study of the Law with a proi)er ajipreciation of the dig- 
nity of the profession, and with a lirm delermination to 
lionor his callino-. 

it was whilst Mr Allen was assiduously eniTao-ed in 
preparing for the practice of the Law that he received in- 
lelligence of the invasion of our soil by the Mexican ar- 
my, in crossing the Uio Clrande. He did not stop to cab 
eulale the chances, or to consider the hardships or dan- 
gers of war, but maile up his mind with promptness, to 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN 87 

respond to any call which the Government might make 
for volunteer troops. His feelings upon receiving the in- 
telligence, may be best gathered from the following ex- 
tract of a speech which he prepared, and which he left 
amongst his papers. After describing the consumma- 
tion of the Annexation of Texas under the figure of a 
marriage ceremony, he proceeds as follows: — 

Now that the nuptial rites are celebrated and the con- 
viviality of which it was the occasion, what now do we 
hear? Gross murmurs of irreconcileablc hostility on the 
part of Mexico, who has been unfriendly to the United 
States, and an implacible enemy of Texas. Those who 
liave been lawfully joined together in holy wx*dlock, she 
presumes to put assunder. Gents, an armed soldiery of 
Mexicans have planted their standard upon American 
soil. The American army under the command of Gen. 
Taylor is beleaguered. The war cry has been raised — 
intense excitement prevails, no doubt all over the Union. 
Our citizens are marching towards the invading army re- 
solving to carry the war into the enemy's territory, and 
plant the star-spangled banner upon the walls of thf 
Montezumas. Thousands of brave hearts arc now beat- 
ing with anxiety for the call upon their valor and patri- 
otism — and when the proclamation does go forth, from 
one end of the Union to the other, brave hearts and strong 
arms will be ready to obey the summons. Men will rise 
up like the embattled hosts of llhoderic Dhu, with the pa- 
triotic determination to unsheathe the sword, and in obe- 
dience to the command of the Grecian matron to her son, 
to return with them, or to return upon them. Whether 
they approved of the marriage or not, tliey are unwilling 
to see Texas exposed to spoliation, insult and injury. — 



88 LIFS i.ND CHARACTER OF 

Kather than this, they would be for waging a worse thai, 
Trojan war. Split up, as we have been by party, out 
enemies, no doubt, vainly imagined that we were a di 
vided people. But thanks to the indomitable patriotism 
of our people, when war's dread clarion is sounded, there 
is but one voice and one heart in this country, and that 
is an American voice and an American heart. There is 
but one banner under which they rally, and that is the 
banner of the country which waved in triumph in the 
dark hour of the revolution. 

Forever float tliat standard sheet ! 
Where breathes the foe but falls before us, 
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, 
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us! 

It was a remark of Lord Nelson at the battle of Trafalga, 
that England expects every man to do his duty. Let 
that be the motto to actuate us: that the United States 
expects every man to do his duty, and if he will do that, 
victory will be inscribed in golden characters upon our 
unfurled banner. 

From the manifestation of enthusiastic ardor and the 
ebulition of patriotic feeling, I cannot cherish the sem- 
blance of a doubt, but the call will meet with a prompt 
response. What, Gents, is your determination? Who 
is willing to go — who? The same spirit which actuated 
the brave and dauntless Indian chief Conanchet, will ac- 
tuate you, "we will light," says he, **to the last man, 
rather than become servants to the English." The pa- 
triotic sentiment of Old Armstrong who fell wounded at 
the battle of Enotochipco, will awake similar emotion.^ 
in your bosoms: — "Boys," says he, "some of you may 
fall, but save the cannon. Some of you may fall in the 
struggle, but let it be like brave men, with vour face to 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 89 

the enemy." I liave no fears of the engagement. — 
Should it be our pleasure to participate in the glories of 
that war, we need but write back to our friends and rela- 
tions at home, that we came, and like the Roman gen- 
eral, we saw and conquered. Do you want lessons of 
fortitude and self-sacrificing devotion to country? Do 
you ask for examples of magnanimous and lofty bearing? 
If you do, I would point you to the gallant Lawrence, 
who wrapped himself up in his country's flag and ex- 
claimed, "don't give up the ship." I would point you 
to Wertherford an Indian chief in the late war, 6lc. 

What a commentary is this upon Tennessee chivalry? 
A few more words. Gents, and I have done. I have 
occupied, by the authority of the people, a station — a re- 
sponsible station in the councils of the State of Tenne.-- 
i^ce. For this mark of their confidence, I hope I ever 
shall be, and am truly thankful. I never shall forget it, 
let me be placed under whatever circumstances I may. 
When I forget it, may my right arm forget its coming, 
and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth. May I 
as soon forget the object that clings the nearest my af- 
fections. I can now say without regret and afTectation, 
that I cherish no political aspirations at all. I have no 
personal advantage to seek — I desire none. All that I 
now seek is, that I may be permitted to blend my destiny 
with yours, whatever it may be. I surrender up any 
personal comfort which I may enjoy, without a murmur 
or complaint — *'sink or swim, live or die, survive or per- 
ish," I have resolved and re-resolved to be among the 
first to enlist my services in the defence of my injured 
country. The decree has gone forth, and its mandates 
will be obeved. 



90 tIFB AND CHARACTER OF 



CHAPTER VII. 

Capt. Allen enlists as a Volunteer — Acted as Aid de Cnmp (c 
Gov. Brown — Declines the appointment of Quarter Master — 
Jlis Charge and Death at Monterey — Tributes to his Memory. 

The anticipated call for volunteer troops was soon 
made». and Mr. Allen enlisted as a private soldier in the 
Lawrenceburg Blues. This company was organized and 
in readiness when the proclamation for Volunteers ■wTis 
received. Its services wore immediately tendered by 
Capt. Alexander, and accepted by Gov. A. V. Brown. 
At the appointed time, Capt. Alexander marched his gal- 
lant band of volunteers to the point of rendezvous, near 
Nashville, where they were mustered into the service of 
the United States. Upon the arrival of the various com- 
panies at Nashville, Gov. Brown appointed ^Mr. Allen his 
special Aid de Camp during the stay of the troops at 
their rendezvous near the city. He discharged the du- 
ties of the appointment until his company were embarked 
for New Orleans, when he again resumed his position as 
a private. He served in this capacity until the company 
to which he was attached arrived at the encampment at 
Lometa, Mexico, when Captain Alexander resigned hh 
command, and ^Ir. Allen Avas unanimously chosen as liis 
fuccessor. He was not a candidate, nor did he desire the 
command, but his companions in arms determined that 
they would be led by him, and he yielded to their wishes. 
Under the circumstances, this was the highest compli- 
ment which he could have received, and he so esteemed 



CAPT. WM. B, ALLEN. 91 

\t. He saw in it the liigh confidence which his comrades 
reposed in him, as well as their warm personal attach- 
ment to him. lie determined that nothing but death 
j^hould separate him from his command, and under this 
feeling of devotion to his companions, when President 
]^olk tendered to him the rank of Major in the army, lie 
declined the promotion. Writing to his father from Ca- 
margo, on this subject, he said: "I was gratified to learn 
that the President had given me the appointment al- 
luded to in your letter. The rank and pay of Major 
<3Ught to be considered as very desirable to some, but 1 
cannot abandon my company for the highest appointment 
in the gift of the President. The boys say they will go 
under nobody else." All of his letters on his march, are 
characterized by the same lofty patriotism which breathes 
throughout the speech which has been quoted, whilst his 
allusions to his company are always in terms of the warm- 
est affection. "When about to leave Camargo for Monterey, 
he was compelled to leave behind about twenty of his 
company on account of sickness and debility. This was 
extremely painful to him, and in a letter to his father, 
he speaks thus feelingly of his comrades: " I have 
thirty-five or forty of my original company, who are still 
able to march with me. They feel like brothers to me. 
J. regret to leave behind those who are on beds of afflic- 
tion. I hope they will soon rejoin their friends. May 
the great God protect them and support them in all their 
trials and afflictions." Amongst the number thus left 
behind, was his brother, Sam Houston, to whom he waa 
much devoted, and for whose safety he felt the deepest 
concern. In another letter from Camargo, about the 
same date, he refers to the fact that Gen. Pillow was left 
behind, in terms so complimentary to that brave officer, 



92 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

that it is due to liim that the testimony should be record- 
ed. He says: **We will leave to-morrow or next day; 
we are placed under the command of Gen. Quitman, of 
Mississippi. Gen. Pilllowis left behind. We all regret 
his being- left behind. We want to be led by him and no 
other. He is the very man for the occasion. Although 
men have endeavored to prejudice the minds of the sol- 
diers against him previous to his arrival, he has proved 
be he very man for them. No man could be more pop- 
ular." 

Accompanying this letter, Capt. Allen forwarded the 
following to the Xashville Union: 

Camp Near Camargo, Sept. 1, 1846. 
To Brigadier Gen. G. J. Pillow, 

Sir: — Having been detached upon temporary duty, 
under the command of Brigadier Gen. Quitman, we 
deem it due no less to yourself than to the men under 
your command, to express to you our high sense of the 
value of your services, the sense of regret with which 
the officers of the first regiment of your Brigade, and the 
men under our command pass temporarily from under 
your command. 

We assure you, sir, that we fully appreciate the un- 
ceasing exertions which you have made since assuming 
command of this Brigade, to reheve the distresses and 
afflictions of the sick, and your efforts to introduce and 
carry into effect, a proper system of discipline, and to fit 
your command for the active duties of the field. While 
we bear this testimony of our high regard for you per- 
sonally, and of the eminent qualifications for your com- 
mand, we assure you, that the men under our command 
concur with us in this expression of our views and feel- 



CAPT. "VfM. B. ALLEN. .93 

:ngs, and that there is not to our knowledge any diversity 
of opinion from these views in our regiment. We enter- 
tain the hope that you will be ordered forward with your 
Briirade in a short time, and that we will be restored to 
our proper place in your command, and if it be our fortune 
to participate in the conflicts with the enemy, that we 
may be led into the field of battle by Tennessee's own 
son, whose reputation, feelings and sympathies are iden- 
tical with ours. 

We remain most respectfully, yours, &c. 
[Signed by all the Officers of the Regiment except 
one Company.] 

The last letter written by Capt. Allen will be read 
with peculiar interest. It was addressed to his parents, 
and is as follows: — 

Seralto, Mexico, Sept. 14th 184G. 
Mr Dear Parents: I never wanted to see you so 
badly in my life. I arrived here yesterday with my com- 
pany, together with the 1st Regiment Tennessee Volun- 
teers. We leave here in the morning for Monterey. AVe 
are about 60 or 70 miles from Monterey, and about the 
same distance from Camaro-o. The battle will be fouo-ht 

O D 

in a few days. They (the enemy) are fortifying the 
place. They are reported as being ten or twelve thou- 
sand strong. Give my love to all my friends. 

I have this day sent my resignation to the President, 
who appointed me Quarter-master. The boys are un- 
willing to be commanded by anybody else. By the 
^race of God, I will try and lead them without dishonor 
.0 victory. 

I have a sword that was worn by my father, which 
jhall not be dishonored in my hands. 

Your SOD, WM. B. ALLEN 



94 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

When tills letter was written, it was well understood 
that a battle was to be fought in a few days. The tone 
which pervaded it shows the spirit in which Capt. Allen 
led his gallant company, one week after, in the bloody 
charge at Monterey. On the 21st of September, 1846, 
that charge was made, and whilst it resulted in one of 
ilie most briUiant victories which crowned the American 
arms in the Mexican war, it sent many brave spirits to a 
premature grave. Soon after the battle an officer, of 
the Lawrenceburg Blues addressed a letter to ihe father 
of Capt, Allen, which describes with so much minuteness 
the part borne by him in the charge, and the manner of 
his fall, that its insertion in full length becomes proper: 

Camp Neau Monterey, Mexico, ) 
Oct. 5th, 1846. i" 
Dear Sir: — I embrace the present opportunity of writ- 
ing you that you may know the state of the Lawrence- 
burg Blues at present. . Our Captain, Wm. B. Allen, 
with nine of the company, are numbered with the dead. 
Our encampment is situated between 3 and 4 miles from 
the forts and batteries of the city. On the 20th there 
was some reconnoiterino- and cannonadinof between the 
two armies, which lasted for two hours, when we retired 
to the camp with no loss. The eventful and long to be 
remembered morning of the 21st of September arrived. 
The volunteers were eager for the contest. We arrived 
in front of the forts and batteries — the Ohioans and 
Kentuckians on the right, the Tennesseans and Missis- 
.^^ippians in the centre, the Baltiraoreans and Regulars 
on the left. In that position we stood the cannonading 
for at least half an hour. There our brave and lament- 
ed Captain partook of a hearty meal said, "Boys if I di^ 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 95 

to-day I shall die with a full stomach.'* At that mo- 
ment the Baltimoreans and Regulars were ordered to 
charire the batteries on t!ie left, but shrunk back in con- 
fusion and dismay. The order Tennesseans liad, left 
Hank, left face, charge men, charge. Our company in 
front, and ever anon could our Captain's voice be heard 
saying, ^'Come on my brave boys, come on, close up, close 
up. In that position for near tv/o miles, were we exposed 
to the raking tires of two batteries and the noted black 
fort, one ball taking effect in our company, which sent 
seven brave souls to eternity. Then again was the shout 
from our brave Captain heard through the smoke, "come 
mx my brave boys, come on." About seventy yards 
from the fort the command halt was pivcn, and then the 
light with musketry commenced. Allen's voice was 
then again steadily heard saying, "Boys take good aim, 
don't let them tire that cannt^n again." And well thoy 
obeyed that command, for that cannon ceased to fire. — 
Our Captain was shot through the breast with a musket 
ball, and looking around said, "Boys, I must die," (and 
in another letter he said, "I am dying, hurra my brave 
boys.") He died bravely, with his sword unsheathed 
and firmly grasped in his hand. The word charge was 
then given, and Lawrence county has the honor of hav- 
ing the first man there. Geo. H. Nixon was the first 
man on the ramparts of that fort. There he flourished 
his sword and said, "boys come on, my brave boys, come 
on." I have only written as far as your son was con- 
cerned in the first day's battle. The letters and private 
property of Capt. Allen are now in the possession of Lt. 
Nixon, which will be taken care of and returned to you. 
I'efore his death I heard him often remark, that he had 
assured his father that that sword should never be dis- 



36 LIPS AND CHARACTER OP 

honored in his son's hands; and that pledge has been ful- 
filled. The sword will again be^-eturned to you, as it ha^ 
been secured for that purpose. The following are the 
names of those killed and wounded belonging to the Law- 
renceburg Blues: Killed — Capt. Wm. B. Allen, Finley 
Glover, Wm. Rhodes, J. B. Burkitt, J. M. L. Campbell, 
J. W. Wilson, A. J. Gibson, J. W. Saunders, A. J. Ea- 
ton, A. A. Pratt. Wounded — G. H. Nixon, slightly in 
the knee; M. D. Watson, in the thigh; J. M. Bailey, do; 
Jesse Brashears, in the head, (glanced) arm and back: 
J. W. Curtis, in the shoulder and foot; H. H. Dotson, 
shoulder; T. C. Ramsey, right arm shivered and ampu- 
tated above the elbow; A. C. Richardson, do.; W. M. Al- 
ford, through the right side; M. C. Abernathy, thigh, 
slightly; A. S. Alexander, through the left arm; J. H. 
Kay, leg taken off above the knee; C. Boyd, thigh; J. 
Gavin, do.; Aaron Parks, shoulder, slightly; J. Vining, 
body and foot; F. Richardson, through thigh, badly; B. 
L. Cannon, slightly. They are all getting on finely and 
will no doubt get vreil. 

D. HUBBARD, 
0. S. Laiorencehurg Blues. 

Such was the premature termination of the career of 
one of the most promising young men of the State. — 
Until his fall was announced, it was not known by his 
warmest friends how enviable a reputation he had formed. 
It is no exageration to say that the news of his death 
spread a general gloom over the State. By his election 
to the Legislature under the circumstances already de- 
tailed, by the commanding position which he occupied 
in that body, and by his prompt response to the call for 
volunteers, he had enhsted the warm interests of a wide 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 97 

tircle of friends throughout the State. When the intelli- 
gence arrived, that young Allen had fallen, though he 
had fallen gloriously, in the battle of Monterey, it filled 
the hearts of thousands -with grief. A high destiny had 
been predicted for him, and he was expected to return 
home crowned with laurels — but how inscrutable are 
the ways of Providence? For some wise purpose, be- 
yond motal ken, it was meet that the fond hopas of ad- 
miring friends and aiFectionate relations should be disap- 
pointed. To such an afflicting dispensation, it becomes 
all to bow with humility, and to derive from the manner 
of his death, all the consolation that is afforded in know- 
ing that he fell gloriously. There was a sublimity in his 
fall which no language can portray. Many a hero has 
been deified for e.cploits far less chivalrous than was 
young Allen's daring charge. He fell when the victory 
was won, and his list words were worthy of a dying 
hero. When the fated ball entered his breast, he fell firm- 
ly grasping the sword which had been worn by his ven- 
erable father, and wii-h his last breath uttered a shout of 
encouragement and victory, ^'Hurrah, my brave bovs." 
There is something touchingly melancholy in the death 
of a young man of promise. It blasts so many fond 
hopes of parents and friends. It makes an aching void 
in the hearts o^ so many confiding associates — it disap 
points the expectations of so many admiring acquaint- 
ances. But how .nuch more painful is the shock, when 
such an one falls suddenly, in the vigor of health, in a 
foreign land, in the very act of achieving an exploit of 
heroism which would have won for him influence and 
honor through life. It was the fate of young Allen so u» 
fall, and to terminate his short, but bright career. 
G 



93 LIFE AND CHARACTER 0? 

The death of Capt. Allen called forth many warm trib- 
utes of respect for his memory, and many eloquent eulo- 
giums upon his charcter, both in prose and verse. A 
few of these may be appropriately inserted to show how 
deeply his death was regretted, and how sincerely his vir- 
tues were admired. 

The members of the Erosophian Society, attached to 
the Nashville University, adopted the following tribute: 

Erosophian Hall, Nov. 21, 1846. 

At the last regular meeting of the Society, the follow- 
ing preamble and resolutions were introduced by Mr. 
Robert Eakin Deery, in regard to the Death of Captain 
William B. Allen, and adopted: 

Whereas — We have received the melancholy news of 
the death of William B. Allen, late a Captain in the 
United States Army of Invasion, and who was for a num- 
ber of years, a true, faithful and efficient member of this 
Society; possessed of a fine order of talents and an in- 
domitable energy combined with all the virtues that dig- 
nify man. And vjhereaSy the sad tidings has thrown a 
cloud of gloom and despondency over us, and reminded 
us that the winged messenger Death, has plucked from 
our midst one of our former associates, who v^^as kind, 
magnanimous and brave, and snatched from the State one 
whose prospects for future usefulness and greatness were 
bright and glowing. And whereas, his whole course in 
College auguered a high destiny for him, and this was 
in some degree strengthened by the fact that in a few 
months after his graduation, he was chosen by the peo- 
ple who had long known him, and could appreciate his 
worth, to represent them in the representative branch of 
the last Legislature. Nor was his patriotism bounded by 



CAPT. WM. E. ALLEN. 1*9 

a narrow cirde. For when a call for Volunteers was 
made, he early enrolled himself, and met his death at 
Monterey while urging his men to victory. Although 
the sting inflicted, is soothed and chastened by the happy 
reflection that he fell gloriously fighting in his country's 
cause, yet wc deeply and sensibly feel that his vacancy 
can never be filled, and in common with all his acquaint- 
ances, we not only mourn his loss to our Society, but to 
the State in general. Therefore, 

Be it Resolvcdy That we tender to his bereaved parents 
our sincerest sympathies in the loss of so kind, affection- 
ate and promising a son. 

Be it Resolved, That as a token of our high esteem for 
his memory, we wear the usual badge of mourning for 
thirty days, and that the "Star" in the Hall be shroud- 
ed in mourninfi: for the same lenirth of time. 

Be it Resolved, That a copy of these proceedings be 
forwarded to his parents, and also furnished the city pa- 
pers for publication. 

BENJ. F. PRICE, Rres. 

C. L. Daugherty, Sec. 

Gov. Campbell, the Colonel- Commandant of the Regi- 
ment to which Capt. Allen had belonged, in a letter lo 
his father, spoke as follows: — 

Camp Allen, Near Monterey, / 
October 2G, 184G. [ 

Gen. Allen — JDear Sir: You will long before this 
reaches you, have received the painful intelligence of the 
death of your worthy and gallant son, Capt. William B. 
Allen, who fell in the attack upon Monterey, on the 21st 
of September last. He had, during his service in the 
army, distinguished himself by his kind and gentlemanly 



100 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

demeanor, and by his prompt and officer-like conduct; 
and when the day of batt\e came, he was at the head of 
his column, and lead it most gallantlj to the charge made 
upon one of the enemies strong forLilioations by the 1st. 
Regiment of Tennessee Yalunteers, until the fatal shot 
from the enemy struck him down and deprived him of 
life. I deeply regret the death of that eminent and gal- 
lant officer, and sympathize mosl sincendy with you and 
his friends for his loss. He was a young man of great 
promise, and would, had he survived tliis campaign, have 
taken a very high rank in the estimation of his country- 
men. 

In a letter written from Camp Allen, in Mexico, Col. 
Anderson, the Lieutenant- Colonel of the Regiment, al- 
luded to Capt. Allen as follows : 

I had intended to say in my statement of the fight of 
the 21st, that when within some four hundred yards of 
the fort, a cannon ball struck Cynpt. Allen's company, 
and cut down seven men, four of them were killed on the 
ground, and within some 130 yards of the fort, Captain 
Allen himself received a mortal shot and fell at the head 
of his company, leading it, as he was most gallantly, to 
the charge. In honor of his heroic bravery on that day, 
our present encampmerd has been named "Camp Allen." 
He deserves, as does all the brave sons of Tennessee, 
who fell on that day, an imperishable remembrance is 
the memory of txktry true patriot. 

In an eloquent speech delivered by Col. Guild, of 
Sumner County, upon a proposition to erect a suitable 
Monument to commemorate the brave deeds of the volun- 
teers from Sumner County, who had fallen in battle, h© 
wade the following beaulifu! alksioo tj Capt. Allea ; 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLIN 101 

Among others who fell in that great charge, was Capt. 
Wm. B. Allen, of Lawrence. I served with him in our 
last Assembly; I know him well, and no man who ever 
did, but was his friend. His mind was richly stored 
with all the learning of the day, united to a large and pa- 
triotic heart. He was not only the soul of honor, but 
pink of chivalry. If he had survived that great battle, 
there was no man of higher promise of future usefulness 
to our State, or who would have shown forth a more bril- 
liant star. Not only these but many other promising 
young Tennesseans, now sleep in death. Although they 
will never return, to light up and make cheerful the 
houses of their parents, and enjoy the plaudits of their 
country, yet they have left names, which are priceless 
gems to their respective families, not only reflecting 
honor upon them, but upon their country. 

" Ah how hard it is to, climb, 
The steeps where fame's proud Tomplc shines afar. 
Ah, who can tell how many a heart sublime? 
Hath felt the influence of malignant star. 
And with fortune, waged an eternal war." 

We saw our brave Tennesseans climb those heights, 
wc saw them arrive at the Temple, and with their lives 
snatch the fame their patrotism sought. While we glorv 
in the honor they have acquired, and partake of the fame 
they have given their country, we must deeply lament 
Iheir early death. It remains for a grateful country to 
cherish their memories, and perpetuate their virtues. 
We do so by erecting a suitable monument to our fallen 
brave ; by so doing we not only indicate a proper feeling 
of gratitude to those who have given their lives to their 
country, but we show a proper appreciation of the noble 
Tirtues which mark the patriot: it will excite the rising 



102 LIFE AND CU ARACTER OF 

generations to rally around the Eagle of their country,— 
sustain our free institutions, and emulate the virtues of 
these we intend to honor. These result swil ]not only 
be produced, but by the erection of this monument we per- 
petuate the military fame of our State, which is blended 
with our honored slain. 

The editor of the Cohcmbia Beacon announced the death 
of Captain Allen in the following highly complimentary 
terms: — 

DEATH OF CAPTAIK ALLEIS^ 
The death of this gallant young man who fell as he 
was leading on his brave men to victory, has caused uni- 
versal regret in our community, and throughout this 
part of the State. He was one of Tennessee's noblest 
sons. Although he had only arrived at the age of 
twenty-three years, lacking a few months, he had made 
for himself great character. He was one of the most 
prominent members of the last Legislature, and was a 
general favorite with his own party, and at the same time 
he commanded the respect and esteem of his opponents. 
His death has been lamented by his political opponents 
as well as his political friends. So much was he attach- 
ed to his men, and so much were they attached to him, 
that although he was offered higher offices than the one 
which he held, yet rather than leave his company, he de- 
clined the promotion. Such instances of devoted attach- 
ment as this are rarely met with. We have never known 
the death of a young man to cause so deep a feeling of 
sorrow, and be a source of such general grief. He had 
received a liberal education, and gave every promise of 
extensive usefulness and great distinction. But to those 
who knew him best, with whom he mingled in the scenes 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 103 

of private life, and who saw him around the domestic 
hearth, has his h^ss caused the greatest anguish. Twas 
not as a legislator nor as a soldier they saw in him his 
brightest qualities, but as an associate, and friend and re- 
lation. His parents have the consolation of knowing 
that he died fighting the battles of his country at the 
head of his brave company. 

He was a member of the Cumberland Presbyterian 
Church, and had lived a life consistent with his high pro- 
fession. 

The writer of this portion of the sketch of the lifp of 
Capt. Allen, was editior of the Xashville Union when 
the news of his death was received. He will be par- 
doned for inserting the poor, but heartfelt tribute, which 
he then paid to the memory of one to whom he had 
been warmly attached : — 

From the NasliviUe Union. 
CAPT. WILLIAM B. ALLEJf. 
It is difficult for us to realize the sad fiict that this no- 
ble youth lies cold in the arms of death at Monterey — 
and the distressing truth cannot be resisted. Wm. B. 
Allen has fallen, and sleeps the sleeep of death in a for- 
eign land. He fell gloriously, whilst leading his brave 
company to victory, and if anything could blunt the kee^ 
anguish which his untimely death will produce in the 
bosoms of his venerable parents and his numerous rela- 
tives and friends, it will be the fact that he fell like a true 
solder, with his face to the enemy. We deplore his death 
as a sad calamity to the State — we had few such young 
men amongst us. He had scarce reached his twenty- 
first year, when he was honored by a seat in our last 
Legislature. In that body he distinguished himself by 



104 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

liis assiduous devotion to the interests of his constituents, 
and by those unwavering evidences of high talents whicli 
he displayed in all the discussions in which he engaged. 
He had received a liberal education at the Nashville 
University, and his pathway to fame was rendered 
brighter and brighter to the hour of his death. When 
the call for Volunteers was made, he was prompt in en- 
roUing himself for the battle-field. He became a favor- 
ite with all his comrades in arms. After becoming fully 
acquainted v/ith his merits, he was chosen to lead the gal- 
lant company in which he volunteered as ft pi'ivate. He 
led that noble company into the city of Monterey, and 
there fell crowned with glory. The same energy and 
force of character which marked him out for some high 
destiny whilst he was yet a school-boy, signahzed his 
whole course after he arrived to the age of maturity. — 
When he fell, gloriously leading our victorious troops, lie 
had scarcely reached his twenty-third year — how bright 
were his propects? He had talents of the very first or- 
der — his mind was highly cultivated — he was calm, de- 
liberate, prudent, yet energetic,^ industrious and ambi- 
tious of an honest fame. He was on the highway to the 
temple at whose shrine his generous and noble soul wor- 
shipped, and few at his age, have made so much pro- 
gress in climbing the steep hill on whose top stands the 
temple. But in the midst of his brilhant career, in the 
very morning of his life, and whilst winning fresh laurels 
for his own brow in one of the hardest fought battles on 
record, he has been cut off — his bones are now resting 
with his brave comrades who fell by his side at Monte- 
rey, but his name will live as long as the world shall pre- 
serve its admiration of deeds of noble daring in the field 
of battle. We sympathise most sincerely with his afiiict- 



CAPT. WM. E. ALLEN. 105 

ed parents — tliey have lost a son on whom they might 
■well doat — he was their pride, and well he might be. — 
We lament his untimely death most sincerely-^his loss is 
a calamity to the State. -He was our friend — tried and 
approved — true and faithful under all circumstances — we 
i^hail never cease to cherish for his memorv the warmest 
feelincrs of affection. 



105 LXFE AJ*D CBARACTER OF 



CHAPTER YIIL 

Tributes of Respect to his Memory — Letter, *fec., of M. C. Gal- 
loway, Esq., — Ceremonies of his Funeral — Col. Rome's Ad- 
dress — His Brother, Sam Houston Allen's death. 

In the following poetical tributes, the reader will find 
how deeply imbedded Capt. Allen was in the hearts of 
"his friends: 

From the Colmnhia Ohserver. ' 
B E A T H OF ALLEN.* 

BY DAVID R. ARNELL. 

Before Monterey's walls he lay. 

Between the dark and light. 
And the smile that lit the Soldier's brow 

Illumin'd the Land of Night; — 
For he saw in his sleep the squadrons sweep 

Through the rush of the morrow's fight. 

He snatched from its sheath his bright blue blade. 

When the drum first tapped Reveil, 
And he saw the city a league away. 

In the dawn-light dim and pale. 
And the flags borne on by the marsh'ling hosts. 

Like clouds in a driving gale. 

He saw them marching slowly down 
The hill, and his soul could fed 



* Capt. William B. Allen, of Lawrence County, who Tvas 
killed in the late brilliant action at Monterey. W^e hope our 
respect and friendship for the brave young officer, will be con- 
sidered a sufficient apology for the appearance of the above 
Poem, though, to say sootli, we could have wished the tribute 
had fallen from an abler pen. I>. R. A. 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLE^^ 10* 

A thrill of a"we at those moving forma, 

And those ranks of bristling steel, — 
"Oh, fear of death! should a man," he said, 

"With girlish faintness reel?" 

And then in a martial tone, he spake, 

"Brave comrads ! charge the foe," 
Good Heaven! it was a glorious sight 

To see those plumes stoop low, 
And the serried men with fear again 

Back in their fortress go. 

4 

Rode by his GenGral on a steed 

That snuff M the fight afar. 
And swallowed the ground at each furious bound. 

And said 'raid the trumps, "ha! ha!" 
While the field all round his reeking path 

Blushed like Aceldama. 

Out spake old " Rough and Ready" then, — 

•'Burst on them through the wall," — 
'Twas answered by a deaf 'uing roar, 

And the thundering cannon ball. 
And a crash, as when a thousand oaks 

In a lonely forest fall. 

Then he heard a mighty shout go up. 

Like the voice of myriad waves, 
"Ho! Mexique soldiers fill the breach. 

Or be forever slaves !" 
And the death wind like a tempest blast. 

Tore the banners off their staves. 

But the hurricane rushed on amain, — 

They fled like driven leaves. 
While fort and tower fell crumbling down. 

As when an earthquake heaves, 
And the men who guarded them were "swept 

Like icicles " from their eavea. 



]08 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

Yet still at the head of his band, he led 

Their steps where a foe might seem, 
And his crimson sword in the seething smoke 

Fiam'd like a lightning gleam; — 
Till, anon, a thunderous roll of drums 

Shook the battle of his dream. 

A shout! and the dieamer knew full well 

'Twas the children of the Free 
That were hurling their cry through the shattcr'd skj. 

To the God of Victory,— 
And his soul had well nigh burst its chain, 

lu its triumphant, glee. 

A change swept over the sleeper's brow: — 

He weened not of space between 
The battle-field and his pleasant home, — 

The Gulf and the mighty Stream 
And thousands of miles had all been pats'd 

lu the whirlwind of his dream. 

The homestead smiled in the pjeasant light 

Of a sweet September morn, — 
He could hear the crush of the reaper's hands 

Amid the golden corn, 
" Be still, distracting thoughts," he cried, 

"Of war's mad folly born." 

His Parents stood at open door. 

Their words were few and meek, 
He tried to tell of the glorious fight, 

But his lips refused to speak! 
And now like a burning seal they lay 

Upon his sister's cheek. 

Oh, wealth of Love! what charm hath fame? 

That men make mock of thee, — 
He would not have given that moment's joy 

For a tenfold victory; — 
But hark I young soldier, the spell is broke, 

'Tis the drum beats Reveille. 



CAPT. ?ri,:. B. ALLEN. 109 

He woke — Eistorif page will tell 

What glorious deeds were done, — 
But woe for the dreamer ! he hath no part 

Beneath the golden sun.- - 
Oh! weep for that brave young friend of ours, 

Who a soldier's grave hath won. 
Maury County, Nov. 9. 



From the Academist. 
ON THE DEATH OF OAPTAIN" WILLIAM B. ALLEJf . 
At Monterey — as the soldiei joys to die, 
The flag of his counny, waving; o'er him high, 
The gallant Allen fell on ihi^ battle plain, 
Where laurels we^e dyed iu dark crimson stain; 
Where shouts of victory on liie free breeze floats, 
And cheers of triump'i swell, 'midst wild war notes, 
Foremost there, in fi^ht aiuoufT that gallant band, 
Young Allen fall — the pride of his native land. 

He fell as the soldier — -and c 'Im be his rest, 

With green laurels crowi.c ci — '.y his country blest — 

And old age, and manh(r •!, .vit: echo his fame. 

Repeating the valliani ani Miuc'. cherished name. 

Whilst the spirit of yruiu. \\ko a charirer spurred ^ 

By the clarion's sw^dl — a!; i -^^ i/| jrious word, 

Will be thristling for horor, unci spurning at fear. 

And bounding to follow young Allen's career. 

He died, upon the ensanguined battlf^ plain. 
Where laurels are fresiiened vvitu dark crimson rairt. 
Where the loud roiling drum, and the fife's shrill tone, 
Nerves the soldier to stifle the huv death groan. 
Where the clasp of the soldier's c<^Id hand, thrill, 
An<i bid the heart leap, ere its pulses are still, 



110 LIFE AKD CHARACTER OF 

Where no message of love, from hirn can be borne,. 
To fond parents, who never will greet his return. 

He fell, where the war-cloud was gathering fast, 
Where havoc, and horror, were borne on the blast — 
Where he led, valliant hearts— the hero of the hour, 
The eagle's broad pinions, in pride, and in power, 
Leading onward — amidst the cannon's dread rattle, 
Leading onward — forward, the foremost in battls, 
He falls, as a soldier of liberty — he dies, 
And angels attend his spirit to the sides; 
For sure, the martyr of freedom, is given 
A glance of the future, when ripe for Heaven. 

October 30^ 18 W. ROLAND. 



From the Academic t. 
LINES ON THE DEATH OF CAPT. V/M. B. ALLEN, 

AND HIS COMRADES, WHO FELL AT THE CAPTURE OF MONTEREY' 

The sun that rose on Mon'cery, 

Ne'er looked upon a band more brave — 
W'hen Tennessee's bold chivalry 

Reared high our banner, there to wave; 
Amid the dreadful battle din. 

Undaunted moved the Spartan few, 
To wear the wreaths that valor win. 

They onward to the conflict flow. 

Young Allen, with his sword on high, 

His hero band to the conflict leads, 
Each noble bosom in emotion vie — 

In patriot fervor — and in valiant deeds. 
Where fiercest raged the battle storm. 

The youthful hero, with his fearless band, 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEW, llli 

Appears in front — his manly form 
Tiie gathering tempest to withstand. 

No nobler spirit in the bosom burns, 

Or warms to action the gallant brave. 
Than that which base dishonor spurns, 

Ajid lushes on to glory's grave. 
The gallant Allen thus inspired. 

His trusty comrades by his side, 
By lofty love of country fired, 

On glory's altar nobiy died. 

Onward, still on, they bravely pressed, 

To win the meed of high renown — 
And as the noble warrior's crest 

Was mingling with its laurel crown, 
Their gallant leader low was laid, 

But even in death's brief agony, 
"He shook on high his battle blade,. 

And shouted, 'onward,' 'victory.'" 

OLO. 



From the Times 
S T A IT Z A. S , 

TO THE MEMORY OF THK LATE CAPTAIX WILLIAM B. ALLEN. 
WHO FELL AT THE BATTLE, OF MONTERKY. 

Alas! we mourn the silent dead. 

For those we weep the silent tear, 
And the sweetest one is always shed 

Upon the gallant young soldier's bier. 

And Allen's name long shall blaze 
High on his country's brightest page, 



1 1 2 LIFE AND CHARACTER OP 

And be the honest theme and praise, 
Of the patriot and sago. 

And the Poet, like gems around it, 
His greenest lays shall t\vine, 

And the trump of fame shall sound it, 
Down the burning track of time. 

When he heard the war horn cry, 
As it rang through city and field, 

Soon his manly form he did supply 
With his father's sword and shield. 

Then he bravely left his childhood's home, 
And the scene of his youthful prime, 

And crossed the roaring ocean foam, 
To "do or die" in a distant clime. 

And when the desperate charge was made, 
Where vengeance rode each ball and shell. 

He flashed on high his battle blade. 
And in the first ranks fighting, fell. 

But of complaint not a single word 
E'er escaped his fast fleeting breath, 

He only firmer held his trusty blade, 
As he calmly slept in death. 

He fell alone on a foreign shore, 
Where he was by no kindred blest. 

And his country' flag covered him o'er. 
And victory's shout bore him to rest. 

There many a gallant deed was done, 
And many a daring spirit laid low. 

But few a greener wreath have won, 
Than that which binds his brow. 

But no more in the golden morn. 
When the lights of memory buro. 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 11$,^ 

h>hall he heed the soundiiifr bugle horn, 
And to the battle-field return. 

No more shall San Juan's yellow wave, 
At midnight hour his funeral dirge be, 

Friendship has wrought him a prouder grave 
In the sunny land of the free. 

There he may lie and sweetly sleep, 
His deeds all done but not forgot. 
While love his early doom shall weep, 
And fancy immortalize the spot. 
Boon's IlllL 1817. PHILAZMA. 



LINES, 

IN MEMORY OF CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN, WHO FELL AT MONTEREY- 
SON OF GEN. R. H. ALLEN, OF LAWRENCE COUNTY, TENN. 

^Vhen the fierce battle-cry was heard 

Upon the far-famed Rio Grande, 
Where the base Mexicans had dared 

To set their foot on Freedom's land; 
The brave young Allen was among 

The first who cried, "To arms! lets go, 
AVe must defend our country's wrong, 

Drive back the insolent Mexican foe." 
He was his father's pride and boast; 

His mother's dearest, fondest hope — 
Those who best knew him loved him most. 

The favorite of the household group. 
He had just began life's grand career, 

His course was like a brilliant star — 
When of his country's wrongs did hear, 



114 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

He hastened to the seat of war; 
The Lawrence boys chose him chief, 

To lead them on at Monterey — 
''Brave boys," said he, "I'll be your chief. 

Then on to death or viclory." 
He then girt on his sword and said: 

"This is the sword my father gave — 
It shall be honored till I'm dead, 

It has ne'er been worn but by the brave." 
And when the mighty conflict came, 

There was brave Allen with his band. 
In the front of batlle, winning fame, 

By valorous deeds, with daring hand; 
Just as the foe was put to flight, 

The fatal ball then ends my story — 
Young Allen fell in glorious fight, 

He sleeps in death, all crowned with glory. 
JIherdcen, Dec. 20, 1846. 



Florence, Alabama, Oct. 12, 1852. 
Gf.n. R. IL Allen — Dear Sir: Herevrith enclosed 
YOU will please find the liasty and imperfect editorial 
tribute, which I paid to the memory of your dear, de- 
parted son, through the columns of my paper, the Flor- 
ence Gazette. The death of your son has often impressed 
me with sad and melancholy reflections. He had, I be- 
lieve, just finished a collegiate education. He was fresh 
from tlie Legislative Halls of his native State. His 
mighty heart beat "high and warm," and in the lan- 
guage of England's great Bard, life seemed a "banquet, 
a song and a dance." He was the soul of chivalry.— 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 115 

His majestic form was as tall and stately as the strong 
oak, while his beaming countenance gave an unerring 
reflex to the kindness, goodness and sweetness which 
swelled his noble bosom. Thus he left his "aged pa- 
rents" — the ease and comfort of a happy home, full of 
lusty life, ilis heart was filled with sanguine expecta- 
tions, and deeds of noble emulation. Under the stream- 
ing folds of his country's banner, he marched forlh 
amid the fiery torrent. The iron grape that grevr in 
such fatal clusters and so luxuriantly on the hill-sides of 
Monterey was poured upon him, but he blenched not. — 
His fiery young heart seemed stirred to courageous mad- 
ness, as his comrades fell by his side, and he rushed on 
with impetuous madness: But, alas! alas!! just as the 
enemy was vanquished, and the trumpet shout of victorv 
was heard, your poor boy received a mortal wound, and 
his red blood mingled with his neighbors. It was then 

" Hope for a season bade the world farewell, 
And freedom shrieked a requium as he fell." 

Methinks I see the young brave now, as he lay prostrate 
upon the stricken field which his ov/n valor had already 
won. As he lay breathing out his heart-stricken soul, 
gush after gush, the earthquake voice of victory filled 
his ears, and as he proudly turned his dying gaze upon 
the triumphant stars and stripes, he made one faint ef- 
fort to shout "vidon//" but his great heart fluttered, 
and his soul winged its flight to eternity. 

"His countrymen wept, that in life's brightest bloom. 
One gifted so highly should sink to the tomb; 
For in ardor he led in the van of the host. 
And fell like a soldier — he died at fas post. 



116 LIFE AND CHARACTER 0? 

lie wept not himself that his warfare was done — 
The battle was fought and the victory won ; 
But he whisper'd to those that his heart clung to mo^it 
Tell my countrymen that / died at my post. 
He ask'd not a stone to be sculptur'd in verse ; 
■ He ask'd not that fame his merits should reliearse ; 
But he asked as a boon, wlien he gave up th<; ghost, 
That his friends jnight know how he died at his post." 

For the death of your son, the tears of the nation fell 
fast and free; but they flow rather for the living than 
the dead — for the nation that has lost such a patriot, for 
you and for the heart-broken mother. For these, we 
weep tears, bitter, hearfc-felt tears ; but not for your gal- 
lant boy, for we rather envy his enviable fate. He ful- 
filled the highest destiny man owes to the world — he 
died for his country. I know that in the person of your 
son was garnered up all the treasure of your affections. 
To hira you looked as the solace of your declining 
years, and his untimely deathlias no doubt sorely lacer- 
ated and bruised your bosom. It is a chrushing stroke, 
and I presume that neither your philosophy or your man- 
hood can repress the sad sigh, or stifle the falling tears; 
but I trust you will in spme degree be consoled by the 
reflection that a grateful nation has already inscribed 
the name of William B. Allen upon its annals, and 
long after you and I have passed off to the "silent land 
of the sleepers," and taken up our abode in the "silent 
city of the dead," his name will be cherished fresh and 
green in the hearts of his countrymen. I believe, in the 
quiet seclusion of your own garden rests the remains of 
your gallant son, and as you repair at twilight eve, 
amid singing birds and blooming flowers, to pay homage 
to his memory, you can point to the monument which 
lifts its tall spear to the skies, and say in the language 



CAPT. -WM. B. ALLBN. 117 

of the Roman mother as she held up her children — 
*' These — these are my jewels.'' These reflections have, 
I may say, almost involuntarily suggested themselves to 
my mind in contemplating- the death of your son. I 
write them hurriedly, without time for reflection or re- 
vision, you will therefore excuse all inaccuracies. With 
ray best wishes for your happiness, 1 remain 

Very respectfully, your friend, 

M. C. GALLAWAY. 

From the Florence, {Ala.) Gazette, Not. 7, 184G. 
THE DEATH OF WILLIAM B. ALLEN. 

While the whole nation is rejoicing over the triumph 
which perched upon our banner in the recent battle at 
Monterey, the heart of the patriot almost involuntarily 
turns from its rejoicing, to mingle its tears over the 
graves of those who fell. The fall of William B. Al- 
len, of the Tennessee Volunteers, has evoked the imi- 
ver.sal sorrow of the American people. His fate is a 
melancholy one. It affords another exemplification of 
the old old adage, that "death loves a shing mark" — 
that the brightest and best, the youthful and beautiful 
are the objects at which the relentless monster ever aims 
Ids unerring arrows. Just in the bloom of manhood — 
fresh from his College studies and from the halls of his 
State Legislature — with his young breast swellirfg wiih 
a thousand dreams which the young alone can weave — 
of patriotism, ambition, love and hope — he has fallen on 
the battle-lield, on a bleak and foreign strand, and has 
brought mourning upon his venerable parents. 

When a call was made for Volunteers,, Capt. Allen or- 
ganized a brave and chivalrous band of patriots. Their 
country only beckoned, and these magnaBiraouB sons 



118 LIFB AND CHARACTER OF 

thronged to enlist themselves beneath the broad folds of 
her glorious standard. They rallied to the rescue, and 
while young Allen was gallantly leading on his brave 
men, and nobly driving back the cohorts of oppression— 
the mercenary hirelings of despotism, he, with many of 
his spartan band, fell. Just as the proud flag of his 
country was about to wave in triumph over the field of 
battle, he fell 

'•Gloriously fighting in a glorious cause." 

He was buried with all the honors of war, in the 
midst of the tears of his fellow-soldiers. It is said no 
cowardly fear blenched his mnnly cheek. He knew his 
end, and departed without a murmur, and with an abi- 
ding confidence in the mercy and goodness of his Re- 
deemer. He went thither at the requisition of his God, 
and as a soldier for Eternity. He has, ere this, answered 
to the new roll-call, and we believe his patriotism and 
his goodness will give him a peaceful parole in Heaven. 
Light rest the turf on his bosom! The genius of his 
country will guard the spot hallowed by the remains of 
the patriot that has died in her cause. Let us pay hia 
memory that homage worthy the great cause in whick 
he fell. Let the youth of tlic country repair around his 
grave as around the shrines of liberty, to catch the Sre 
of inspiration, and as they pass the green turf that rise* 
over his slumbering form, let them exclaim in t-he ful- 
fiess of their hearts: — 

"This shall resist the empire of decay, 
When time is o'er, and v/orlds Iiavc passed awaj: 
Cold in the dust his perip,])od heart may lie. 
Bit that which w&rmed it once will never dk." 



CAPT. WM. B, ALLEN. 119 

Akhough Capt. Allen fell in a distant land, his 
friends have the consolation of knowing that his remains 
are now quietly resting in the County of Lawrence. — 
The following account of the ceremonies which took 
place when his remains reached home and were interred, 
will be found deeply interesting : 

From the Lawrencchnrg Times. 
HONOR TO THE BRAVE— THE FUNERAL. 

On Saturday last, the remains of the late Captain 
William B. Allen arrived at his father's residence, 
from Monterey, Mexico. Yesterday, about a thousand 
of his friends and acquaintances assembled to commit 
his body to the tomb. The day being fair and pleasant, 
a very large number of ladies were present. The body 
of the gallant dead was soldered up in a leaden cofiin, 
within another of mahogany, on which a large silver 
plate, bearing the name of the deceased, was fastened. 

Hundreds were there, who about nine months since, 
took leave at the same place of the friend tliey had now 
met to bury. They remembered, and often remarked 
the contrast between this and that assemblage. Then, 
with buoyant feelings and brilliant hopes, the brave Al- 
len left his home at the call of his* country; they .saw 
him depart with pride and pleasure. Now, they met in 
sorrow, to mingle their tears with those of a large and 
respectable circle of his friends and relatives. We hare 
never attended any funeral where there was such gen- 
eral and deep sorrow depicted in the countenances of 
ihe spectators. 

The order of procession to the grave was, as near s.» 
we can recollect, as follows: The Hearse with Military €.%- 
coris, attended hy Music on each Jiank. Tha Reiaiivts 



120 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

The Clergy, The Monurnent Commiiice. The Ladies. — 
The Citizens. 

The fine volunteer company from Mt. Pleasant, com- 
manded by Capt. Alexander Terry, with such part of 
Ool. Tarkington's Clay Guards as could be hastily as- 
sembled, formed the escort. The whole conducted by 
the Marshal of the day and his associates, S. E. Rose, 
A. S. Alexander, A. 0. Richardson, and Thomas C, 
Ramsey. The two last gallant youths were the observed 
of all observers, having each lost an arm at the assault 
on Monterey. 

At the grave the usual ceremonies took place, with 
military honors. We believe that notwithstanding the 
great number of persons assembled with carriages and 
horses, such was the order and decorum preserved, that 
not the slightest accident occurred. 

At the close of the ceremonies. Chief Marshal, S. E. 
Rose, Esq., delivered the sword of Capt. Wm. B. Allen 
to his father, Gen. R. H. Allen, accompanied by a few 
appropriate remarks, that exhibited his power and elo- 
quence. We have seldom, if ever, hstehed to a more 
touching, a more eloquent discourse. 

The following i§ the beautiful Address made by Mr. 
Rose on this melancholy occasion: — 

MR. ROSE'S ADDRESS. 
Ladies and Gentlemen: — I have been honored to- 
day with wearing the sword of William B. Allen. — 
Language would fail to portray my feelings, or express 
the deep emotions of my heart. I received this sword 
with the pride of a soldier, and I wear it with the devo- 
tion of a friend. Yes, this goodly sword, with which 
the gallant Allen has written his name upon the tablets 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 121 

of immortal memory, and engraven it upon the columns 
of the temple of fame — methinks I can see in imagin- 
ation, this Sword in the heat and front of the battle — 
there it flashed, the harbinger of victory. Yes, gallant 
hero, well hast thou made thy pledge to thy father true, 
*'That this sword should never be dishonored." It has 
returned not dishonored, but wreathed with immortal 
laurels — aye, decked with the gem that valor wins. — 
What a sublime picture the mind draws of this youth- 
ful hero with his gallant band, rushing on midst the 
thickest of the fight, to glory and to victory: 

Onward — still on — they nobly pressed. 

To win the meed of high renown, 
And as the uoble warrior's crest 

Was blending with his laurel crown, 
The gallant Allen low was laid; 

But e'en in death's brief agony. 
He shook on high this battle blade, 

And shouted, "Onward!" "Victory!" 

But he is no more. He is dead, yet he lives — lives 
in the memory of his countrymen, cherished in the af- 
fections of all who knew him. Though his manly form 
lies low in death, his many virtues, his towering talents, 
his brilliant example, shall continue to abide in the 
memory of the living. The history of his short but 
brilliant career shall be the theme of the orator, and be 
sung in numbers of the patriot bard. But we have 
come to bury, not to praise him. He needs no eulogy; 
his name shall brighten with the lapse of years, and 
grow brighter as centuries roll on. 

He left the endearments of home — the hallowed 
scenes of his early remembrance — father, mother, broth- 
ers, sisters, all, to fight the battles of his country in a 



122 '^UFE AND CHARACTER OF 

distant land, where be fell, without a relative to mourn 
his untimely fall, or hold his dying head. But no m.ore 
shall the night winds of that hostile clime sing his sad 
requiem — no more shall Srai Juan sigh her melancholy 
lullaby to his departed spirit — no more shall the rude 
chapparel wave its sombre branches over the fallen 
brave: for Leon has given up her dead, and friendship's 
hand has borne him far back to his native home, to be 
re-embosomed in the 'silent grave — where a mother's 
tears will bedew the sod oh?.t covers his last remains ; 
where the prayers of his father shall make vocal the air 
that encircles his lowly b^^d ; where brothers, sisters, 
friends, shall, from the deep fountains of the heart, 
their grateful tribute of coDipassion pay — 

And friendship tliy tomb slirJl rear. 

Since glory thai hast won; 
And Freedom's self shall hover near. 

To weep her fallen son." 

Venerable sir: I now return to you the sword of your 
gallant son. It will go down in your family as a sacred 
heirloom, and posterity sliJl hold it in the high estima- 
tion it so richly deserviis. 

In the same gallant company in which Capt. Allen en- 
listed as a volunteer, his younger brother, Sam. Hous- 
ton Allen also enlisted. He too, was destined to die 
far away from his home. When the venerable parents 
of these two intrepid young men bid them farewell, and 
gave them their parti ag blessings, as they left their 
homes to fight for the honor of their country, they little 
thought th:-it they were taking a long, last farwelL It 
remains now for the writer to bring this sketch to a c]oii<. 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 123 

by a brief reference to the life and cliaracter of the 
younger Allen. 

He was born in Giles county, Tennessee, on the 9tli 
of October, 1828. When he enlisted for the Mexican 
War he was less than eighteen years of age. Actuated 
hy the same noble patriotism which animated the bosom 
of his gallant brother, he determined to take the chances 
of war by his side. Until they arrived at Camargo, 
they were inseperable companions. At this point, Sam 
Houston Allen was attacked by the prevailing disease 
which carried off so many of our brave troops. When 
the forces were ordered to advance on Monterey, he was 
too feeble to bear the toil and labor of the march, and 
he was amongst the number of those who were honor- 
ably discharged on account of sickness. He returned 
to New Orleans on his way homeward, but at that place 
his symptoms became worse, and finally his disease 
proved fatal. He died on the 26Lh of Octobei*, 1846. — 
Whilst liuGi'erins: on his sick bed at New Orleans, he re- 
ceived the distressing' inttllioence of the death of his 

O CD 

brother. When the news was communicated to him, he 
said: **I would rather have died than to have heard 
that news. Oh! that I had not been taken sick and had 
been by his side; I would rather have fallen with mj 
brother than to have died any other death." These 
feeling expressions show the warmth of the attachment 
which existed between these two noble brothers. Like 
his brother, Sam Houston was a model of virtue and 
morality, and like him he was prepared for death, being; 
an exemplary member of the Cumberland Presbyterian 
Church, as was also his brother. This fact sheds a 
brightness over their tombs, and furnishes a substantial 
«omfort to their friends. 



124 LIFS AUD CHARACTER OF 



CHAPTER IX. 

The Monument erected in Lawrenceburg — The Funereal Ser- 
mon of the Rev. P. P. Neely. 

The high estimate placed upon the heroic conduct of 
Capt. Allen and his brave associates who fell at Monte- 
rey, has been manifested by the erection of a beautiful 
Monument, on the public square of Lawrenceburg. — 
This lastinG: testimonial was the resuli of the o-enerous. 
voluntary contributions of friends, who wished to exhibit 
their admiration of the gallant dead by some permanent 
memorial which should show to future generations, how 
warmly they admired true patriotism and chivalry. 

On the 15th of August, 1847, the Rev. P. P. Neely 
delivered the Funeral Sermon, on the death of the two 
young Aliens, which is replete with that splendid elo- 
quence for which that distinguished divine is so cele- 
brated. At the request of many of the friends of tlie 
deceased, he furnished a copy for publication, and it fur- 
nishes a proper conclusion to this imperfect sketch. 

FUNERAL SIJrMON 

Ffonomiced at MovnT Ararat Cauf- Grotji^d, Lanfrcnce 

Comity y Tenn,, August the Ibth, 1847, on the 

occasion of the death of 
CAPTAIH WILLIAM B. ALLEN, 

WHO FELL AT THE CHARGE OF MONTERET. 

BY llEV. P. P. NEELY, D. D. 

"He being dead yet speaketh" — Heb. 11 ch., 4 v. 

We are assembled,^ my countrymen, upon an occasion 

of melancholy interest. We meet to-day to pay a tribute 

of respect to the memory of the young and th^ bravo 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN 125 

who have fallen like the beauty of Israel, in the hi^rh 
places of our country. I need not announce the names of 
those whose early immolation of themselves upon the 
altar of their country, has tilled so many eyes with weep: 
mg, and bosoms with desolation. They are graven [on 
the hearts that beat in this multitude, with an indellible- 
ness which the flight of years, and the gathering of sor- 
rows will never efface. I feel that I cannot do justice to 
my task. It is one from which I shrink, and would have 
withdrawn myself, but for the earnest solicitation of one, 
whose paternal heart bleeds, as memory lingers amid 
the carnage and death of Monterey. Around me are 
congregated on this occasion, the weeping constituency 
of our departed young friend: those who had invoked 
hini from the retirement of the paternal roof, whither he 
had gone to indulge the warm affections of his iilial heart, 
so soon as he was released from his collegiate toil, and 
casting upon him their voluntary suffrage, bade him go 
forth, and be their organ in the legislative councils of the 
State. These are here. I see before me many who 
were with him in his early boyhood: who were partners 
in his sports — companions in his rambles, and whose 
memories of him, embrace a thousand tender associa- 
tions of youth, which cannot enter the recollections of 
the more aged; you too are here, to weep, as we bid you 
gaze on the pale form of your early boy-associate — 
shrouded and dead. 

Here too, are those who realize a still deeper sympa- 
thy — a sadder grief--his soldier boys. These went 
forth to do battle under his banner. They were his com- 
panions amid the fatiguing march, — they slept by his 
side upon the same cold earth — gazed with him upon 
the same blue covering, and like him, thouirht of loved 



126 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

and absent ones. They Lave listened to his kind "words 
around the distant camp-fire, and when sick, have been 
tended by his hands, and fed from his own soldier's plat- 
ter. They were with him too, amid the din and peril of 
battle — heard his deep voice as it rose above the thunder 
of death, encouraging- them on to valor and to victory- — 
They saw him, when in the pride of youth, he fell, cov- 
ered with glory, and what is better, prepared to meet his 
God. You are here, and in your bosoms must exist 
emotions to which we are strangers. 

And yet, others are here, whose unuttered grief is too 
deep to be alleviated by earthly balm. We would will- 
ingly invade the sanctuary of your hearts, if we could 
hope by it to dispel the gloom, by the casting of one 
a'leam of sunshine there. Your holiest consolation will 
be, that your country has received at your hands, the 
richest offering you could bestow — the priceless jewels 
of your love — and heaven has had its songs augmented 
by tones that once tremblingly addressed you as Father 
and as Mother. 

Surrounded thus, my countrymen, I cannot but real- 
ize the magnitude of the duty imposed upon me. I feel, 
loo, that the occasion is one that must enter with pecu- 
liar strength and earnestness into the hearts of many ihat 
compose this mighty multitude. In meditating upon the 
character of those whose lives we are called upon to no- 
tice, you can but remember an analogous loss which you 
have sustainetl : memor}' will cause to pass before you the 
familiar form of some one, dear to you, as the subjects of 
this day's assemblage were dear to their kindred, whose 
bones moulder in a distant soil, and whose lonely sepul- 
chre is unvisited by friends, and unwatered by tlie ttar 
of affection. Deem not yourselves excluded from what 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 127 

little consolation we may be able to offer. "We came as 
a people, at the appoiutment of the friends of the deceas- 
ed, to offer our condolence especially to them : yet they 
claim no monopoly. We have sympathy for all, and 
would lender it to all. Seeing too, as we have good 
hope that it is so, tliatthe spirits of your sainted soldier- 
boys are rejoicing together, in the enjoyment of eternal 
peace on high, we, their friends, met to dwell upon the 
virtues of their brave leader, would extend to you our 
warmest sympathies in your bereavement, and our most 
sincere prayer for grace to sustain you in their endurance. 

It were needless for me to say that I rank myself with 
pride among the warm friends of William B. Allen ! for 
who is there among this vast number, that were honored 
with his acquaintance, but can give truthful expression 
to the same senlimeni?" I must be indulged, wlien 1 say 
to you, that during the twelve months' intimacy I main- 
tained with him in the metropolis of our State, I realized 
a friendship, the growth of which has never been equal- 
ed toward any other in so short a time. I loved him — 
deeply loved him — and have met you, his old friends, his 
schoolmates, his soldiers and his kindred, to recall his 
virtues, to dwell upon his brief, but glorious career, and 
to gather from it lessons of encouragement in performing 
the destinies we may have to meet in coming years. 

We come with no pomp or pageant to-day; such would 
little become the occasion. The ground upon which we 
meet is too holy, and the purpose in view too high, to 
liave its mournful solemnity and impressive awe disturb- 
ed by the roll of a drum, or the thunder of cannon. We 
come, not so much to do honor to the soldier, who has 
ceased from his toils and entered upon his rest, as to seize 
upon the spotless name he has bequeathed us, and hold- 



128 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF " 

ing it up before our young countrymen, invoke them to 
emulate an example so adorned with integrity, so radi- 
ant with glory. It was right, that the stars of his coun- 
try's glory, and the stripes upon which he gazed amid 
the cloud of battle, should wave over his bier, when they 
were about committino; his returned dusi to the soil of 
that country for whose rights his heart had been stilled. 
The muffled drum, the mournful music, the nodding 
plume, the soldier's tears, all comprised a pageant in 
keeping with the task to be perforftied — the placing in 
the bosom of our mother earth one of her bravest sol- 
dier sons; but meeting now to commemorate those traits 
that beautified his life, and encircled him in his depart- 
ing hours, with a halo of imperishable glory, such pomp 
and circumstances may well be dismissed. 

One of the early customs of the Romans, was to fill 
their halls with the images of such of their families as 
had rendered themselves illustrious. These images con- 
sisted of masks representing the features of the dead, 
with the costume worn by them — their armor, and vari- 
ous insignia of their position among men, and the glory 
they had Avon. These were so placed around the ances- 
tral hall as to convey the appearance of living men — so 
that the descendant had constantly before him the regu- 
lar succession of his ancestry. Upon the death of any 
member of the family, of distinction, a wild and fanciful 
procession occurred. These ancestral masks, costumes, 
armor, &c., were placed upon the servants of the house- 
hold, who, arranged in the order of succession, followed 
the newly deceased to the market-place, where a eulogy 
was pronounced over him, and from thence they repaired 
to the tomb to commit his body to the sepulchre of hia 
fathers. The effect of this awful cavalcade was over- 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLBK. 129 

powering. The young Roman, as he gazed upon the 
dark ancestral hne, apparently animate and breathing, 
ofTered anew his vows of patriotism, and caught a fresh 
enkindlement of glory, as it leaped from the passing 
throng. 

We are assembled, not to gaze on such an array of de- 
parted ones, not to look upon theatre representations like 
this, but to remember the patriotism of our brothers — to 
contemplate their services — to place in our hearts the 
beautiful memory of their goodness, and to realize the 
truth of our text, they "being dead yet speaJceth.'' 

Our object in your further detention, -will be to im- 
press upon you at once the idea in the text — viz: that the 
conduct of each actor on the great stage of life, is to influ- 
ence mankind, after the release from among them, and 
then to enquire into the voices that steal upon us from 
the lives of the deceased. 

Human existence, my hearers, must have its termina- 
tion. We speak now of the suspension of the animal 
functions, and the realization of that change which 
leaves the eye closed upon the most beautiful objects, 
and the ear heavy to the sweetest melodies, and the heart 
dead to the tender emotions. We mean the period in 
the history of immortal man, when all that is visible of 
him to the natural eye, or tangible to the touch, is shut 
out from our view, and the grave opens her dark bosom, 
and folds her arms over us, in our forgetfulness and 
obhvion : when the pleasures that may have beclouded 
the soul : the schemes of ambition or of benevolence 
that may have engrossed the powers of the mind : the 
visions, on whose beautiful vestments we may have 
gazed, as they careered by, like the gorgeous ckud, 
moving in mid heaven upon its invisible wheels: we mesn 



130 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

the period when these, and all else that stirs the great 
multitude of mankind shall have passed away from our 
contemplation, and we shall have entered upon another 
state, to be engrossed by the mighty scenes to which the 
present bids us look. In this sense all must die. The 
doom hangs on all, and has passed upon all, with a few 
exceptions, from the hour in which the knell of heaven 
proclaimed, *'dust thou art, and unto dust sh alt thou re- 
turn:" and so will it continue until that period shall have 
arrived, to the full display of which John was admitted, 
when .he ** heard a voice out of Heaven, saying, there 
shall be no more death." This however, is but the 
dweller from earth — but the veiling of his face from the 
livin<>-, while his actions remain to bless with their good, 
or curse with their evil. God has so established it, that 
the agitations we give birth to, while voyaging the sea of 
life, are to march on with a dominant and widening 
^^veep — gathering strength in their ample circlings — 
until the dirge of time's last wave breaking upon the shore 
of eternity, shall be lost amid the voices that people the 
endless future. 

It is a solemn and unalterable fact. It has upon it the 
iiat of heaven, and no disaffection on our part can change 
it, no striving to hide ourselves in the shadow of obscu- 
rity, will avail in excluding us from its awful apphcation. 
We are here, in existence, composed too, of indistructible 
elements: endowed with a being on v,diich the seal of im- 
mortality has been set. No mortal power, no hand wav- 
ing- in the dominions of the damned can break that seal. 
Obscurity of birth or of fortune cannot lift it from us, nor 
can the darkness of the sepulcher dim its lustre. God 
lias placed it upon us, and there it must forever remain. 
The law of our being— the law of society— the great law 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 131 

of influence is, that actions live after the actor dies. In 
this sense we are all architects, rearing piles on which 
coming generations will gaze, when the names of their 
builders shall have perished amid the unremembered 
past. We are all casting for ourselves mementoes of 
glory or of shame. These may be different, as there may 
exist a disparity in our means of doing good, or diffus- 
ing evil; one may be a massive base, surmounted by a 
turning shaft on which the eyes of multitudes — of tho 
world — may rest, while others may modestly lift them- 
selves from the family altar, visible only to the throng of 
devout Avorshippers that kneel at its peacefual shrine; yet 
are we all — rich and poor, old and young — artificers in 
action, building for all time — building for all eternity. — 
These mementoes of ourselves, so invisibly preparing, 
are to stand as our representatives — as instruments of 
blessing or of cursing to the world — when our names 
shall be effaced from the vast catalooue of the livinsf. — 
We will perish amid our labor: the clamor of the build- 
ers — the revel, the shout, may cease — all memorials of 
our individual names may be lost; still our actions — our 
undying actions — will be seen, radiant with increasing 
glory, or shrouded in darkening shame. 

Oh! think not that life is so bound up in isolated self- 
ishness, that we can enter upon it and continue in it with- 
out contributing our part — great or little, as we may have 
opportunity — to the rolling of the vast population of 
which we are part and parcel, toward that perfectibility 
sung of by the herald of a golden age, and disclosed to us 
in the brighter revealments of prophecy, or else of heap- 
ing upon its massive wheeis leaden weiglits of obstruc- 
tion. 



132 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

\Ye are here, and must act in some way, and every 
deed has mscribed upon it eternity. Life is but one 
great registry, where each dweller is entering his deeds. 
These are to be read by succeeding ones, and are to influ- 
ence them; and ultimately this volume is to be inspected 
at the grand assize of heaven, and by its contents desti- 
nies are to be rewarded. 

The doctrine which we are striving to impress upon 
you on this solemn occasion, is forcibly illustrated by the 
entire history of mankind. We see the seal of one age, 
with more or less of reality in impression, resting upon 
the succeeding one. The events of a generation cast 
their outline upon that which follows. There may j^e, 
there always are, distinctions marking a difference in 
each, yet the shadows or the sunshine of the departing, 
will rest with distinctness upon the dawning one. The 
mighty events that distinguish an age, (and what arc 
events but matured action?) often form the elements of 
a revolution in that which follows. To this doctrine of 
reproducing influence, are we to attribute the success 
which crowned the struooles of our fathers in the cause 
of freedom, and the subsequent achievements of the 
American people, which have made them second to no 
nation in the world. The intolerance manifested toward 
the Puritans, prepared them for the course of stern re- 
solve, which resulted in the settlement of New England, 
And finally in the existence of this free nation. The in- 
credible privations endured by them from an oppressive 
hierarchy, wrouglit in iheir souls a hatred for tyranny 
and a love of freedom. Upon this aliment they fed their 
sons and their daughters: and rearing these in the free, 
wild solitudes of America, where the green earth and 
the vaulted sliy were crowded with symbols of freed«xa» 



CAPT, WM. E. ALLEN. JS3 

no nicarvel tliat its altar was the great colonial heart, and 
that when she demanded it, each hardy descendant was 
willing to yield as his offering, his own warm blood. — 
Our free institutions, founded upon and supported by the 
principles of republicanism, having upon their front the 
high seal of prosperity and of national glory, and receiv- 
ing too, the homage of the friends of liberty everywhere, 
proclaim the might of the influence of that generation; 
yea, farther, the universal throbbing of the heart of free- 
dom, beginnino' to be felt, from the classic plains of 
Greece, to the farthest range of the distant Cordilleras — 
even to the sun-visited plains of Yucatan — shout in trum- 
pet-tones of the majesty of that influence. 

Nor is it less true with regard to the revolution bv 
which ecclesiastical powers have been shaken. Seizin*^- 
upon but one, for the sake of illustration — the Lutheran 
reformation — behold what a moral change suddenly 
passed upon the world, through the influence of one 
master-spirit, and the actions of one generation. A fear- 
ful i darkness had settled upon the religious world, and 
extended its effects to the civil powers. Man was sunk in 
the scale of being: fear tyrannized over the passions, and 
reason was bound in the"chains of passion. Brutal, lawless 
lust, and greedy ambition trod the earth with a dominant 
step, and science, honor, virtue, patriotism and devotion 
were fogrotten, and every right, human and divine, was 
disregarded. An awful night had cast its pall over 
the world, and darkness, unmitigated by the beam of a 
single star, seemed to hold the world spell-bound. — 
"Science became empiricism, and the pure religion of the 
Prince of Peace itself, became the pander for the lust of 
power and wealth, and was made the instrument of 



134 LIFE AND CHARACTER OP 

crushing to the earth the very beings it was designed to 
elevate." 

Thus hung in clouds and impregnated with storms, 
the darkened firmament was made bright by a solitary 
star that was huno- out in the middle of the fourteenth 

o 

century. During the fifteenth and sixteenth, others 
were visible, and in the sixteenth the German Reformer 
startled 'the world by the lustre which he shed around 
him. Since that period hght has been increasing. Lumi- 
nary after luminary has appeared, sparkling groups have 
burst forth, and now the retiring darkness — the beauti- 
ful light not on]}^ visible upon the hill-tops, but coming 
down almost from mid-heaven itself — is a witness of the 
power and increase of its influence. 

What has been afiirraed with regard to generations, 
may with equal truth be appled to individuals. There 
is not one of the actors that throng the mighty stage of 
life, but who when the drama closes, leaves an impress 
on the vast platform. The memory of the head of the 
houshold throng lingers long with the sorrowing remnant; 
and often in distant years from the sad event that made 
the child an orphan, memory comes, with its sad, lute- 
like tones, from the wreck which profligacy may have 
heaped upon it, and whispers to him of the past Oh! it 
is in that hour of bitter reminiscence that the ghosts of 
murdered blessings, of violated innocence, and of des- 
troyed peace, are invoked from the past, and the deep 
piety of that mother, the godly conversation of that fa- 
ther whose efforts to bring back the prodigal were una- 
vailing in life, gathered as it were from the grave, 
snatched from the lives of those who once lived, tell with 
emphasis the influence exerted after death, and prove 
that the dead speak with a voice that breaks not from the 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 135 

iips of the living. Who does not now, while we speak, 
bring from the cells of memory the form, the look, the 
words, the life, and even the death, of some dear departed 
friend or relation. 

The grave, it is true, holds their dust, but their lives 
are with you still. Their pious words; their fervent 
prayers; their devotional songs; their last sickness, witli 
its suffering and patience; their closing hour, with contest 
and triumph; all are yours to dwell upon, and from them 
to gather consolation to do, and strength to endure, 
whatever in the providence of God may be needful for 
you. Holy lights they are, that burn beautifully bright 
in the sepulchre of the past, pencilling wiih their beams 
the truth, that the dead speak. Innumerable are the 
voices that steal up from the burial-grounds of earth. — 
The dead, all the dead — the dead everywhere — pour forth 
the oratory of the charnel house. The rude resting 
place of the humble cottager, aiM the pompous mauso- 
leum of the prince, are alike vocal. The gorgeous sar- 
cophagus, in which the scion of royalty sleeps, and the 
unsightly ditch, where the poor beggar found a release 
from his suffering, send up a kindred eloquence. The dead 
all speak. I would earnestly impress this upon the liv- 
ing, that they may so hve, as that from their dust a voice 
may arise, the tones of which will cheer some pilgrim on 
his lonely way. We repeat it then, the dead all speak. 
Not even the solemn chime — the knell of their departure 
— can drown their tones; neither the cold clay, nor the 
green earth, in whose bosom they await the resurrection, 
can muffle them: their voices come in the wild revel, in 
the giddy dance, the lonely hour, the sabbath stillness, 
the twilight's hush, the midnight's awe, they come : 
from earth and from ocean, they send out their pealing 



136 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

tones, proclaiming that though dead, they yet speak.— 
We may dismiss them from our sight, yet we cannot con- 
sign their deeds to forgetfuhiess. If their hves were 
made up of actions worthy to be admired, these deeds 
**can never die, nor dying be forgotten." Indeed it 
would not be deemed enthusiasm to say, that at death 
they just begin to live — they just enter ihen, upon that 
existence of mighty influence and unclouded fame here, 
and of uninterrupted bUss there, for which their devotion 
to their country, to humanity, and to their God, so pre- 
eminently fitted them. Those whose lives dwell not so 
much in the physical as in the mental and moral world: 
whose steadfast hearts never slumbered: whose souls 
struggled up into a nobler being: the great end of whose 
efforts was to do good: whose riches consisted in a name 
without spot: whose intrepidity was displayed in daring 
to do right: whose spirits were interposed in the institu- 
tions of their country and of the church: whose names 
have been engraven upon her proud pillars, and the 
blood of whose brave hearts has been poured forth in her 
defence — such men were not born to die: no cloud of 
death can hide them from our view: no veil of dark se- 
pulture can shut them out. 

Go tread the solemn height of Bunker Hill. Gaze up- 
on the marble shaft, pointing to the high empyrean above, 
and tell me if the deeds of a Warren, who fell there in the 
infancy of our national existence are forgotten. While 
that pillar braves its summit to the tempest, or receives 
the dew which heaven distils upon that holy ground, will 
the actions of that brave officer and his martyr band be 
fresh in the hearts of his countrymen. Tell me, ye who 
visit the shades of Vernon, is Washington confined to the 
little vault in which his body was laid? Is there no- 



CAPT. WM:. B. ALL2N. 137 

ihinf^ left of liim but the indistino-uishable ashes that 
people a narrow house of earth, guarded by a few bend- 
ing willows, and dirged by the ceaseless roll of the Poto- 
mac? Has Monticello, which contains the hand that 
penned the charter of American Independence, monopo- 
lized all that is left of a Jefferson? and say ye who knew 
him in the quietude of peace, and in tlie terror of battle 
too, has the lion heart of a Jackson no mightier bounda- 
ry than the republican vault at the Hermitage? have 
those impulses which stirred his soul — so patriotic in 
their intention, and so iron-like in their execution — gone 
down into eternal silence with the noble dust they anima- 
ted? No, no! 

These shall resist tlie empire of decay 
"When time is o'er, and worlds have pass'd away: 
Cold in the dust the perished heart may lie. 
But that wliich warmed it once can never die. 

Oh! there is a beauty, a majesty in the thoughts con- 
nected with this theme which we must give vent to. 
The framers of our constitution ! the archives of our in- 
dependence ! the preservers of all we hold dear as free- 
men, gone, but still remembered. The lips that were 
eloquent in our defence, when the word liberty was 
treason, have become silent: the arms that did battle for 
us have become dust, and the hearts that offered their 
blood have perished; still their spirits are with us. Their 
actions, embodying all that was noble in patriotism and 
lovely in virtue— evincing an utter abandonment of all 
self, an absorption of all interests and all purposes in the 
holy one of their country, are our legacy. Blessed in- 
heritance ! to these our satcheled school boys turn for 
examples worthy of emulation. These are beacon-fires, 



138 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

ligliting lip the sea of state amid our heaviest calamities 
and darkest hours; these, rising upon the coast, become 
pledges of safety and harbingers of success. 

We may rear the marble pile, and bring the undecay- 
ing brass to preserve memorials of them, but images 
more vivid, and monuments more lasting than these, meet 
the gaze every where. Their country — their happy 
country — their whole happy country is their eloquent at- 
testor of their virtues. The humblest mound of earth, 
rising over the brave dead, in our free land, arrayed in 
its robe of sunshine, and glittering in the dew-drops of 
morning, is a prouder mausoleum than royal oppressor 
ever reared o'er their tyrannized herd. Our country, 
we repeat, is the monument of her deliverers. Their 
epitaph is her freedom. Glorious names ! not only have 
they broken the chain thrown upon their own nation, 
but the victims of old despotism hear them and give in- 
dications of life. And thus will it be until the wild 
pulsations of the world's heart be for liberty. Whenever 
an agonizing people shall perish in a generous convul- 
sion for the want of a valiant arm and fearless heart, 
they will cry in the last accents of despair, oh for a 
Washington, a Jefferson, a Jackson. "Whenever a re- 
generated nation starting up in its might, shall burst the 
links of steel that enchain it, the praise of our venerated 
fathers shall be the prelude to their triumphal song." — 
They being dead yet speak. 

Seeing then, my beloved hearers, that we are to leave 
an impress upon the sands of life when w^e are called 
from its busy pursuits, how deeply should we be impress- 
ed with the solemn importance of passing upon our con- 
duct a constant and rii^id scrutiny. Of what immense 
moment is it to us, and to those who are to live after us, 



CAPT. WM. B, ALLEN. 139 

and who are to be moulded, to some extent, by the in- 
fluence we are to leave behind us, that we study to make 
that influence profitable. When we die, we too shall 
speak from our tombs; the sound will arise either to glad- 
den or sadden the then living; we will then have sent 
upon society a breath that will either fan into life, or 
wither into death, the beautiful buddinofs of moral virtue. 
Which will jou do? you cannot be nutral ; there is no 
such ground for your occupancy; your life will be vocal 
with lessons of o'ood or evil, of virtue or of vice, lon^>' af- 
ter the grave will have closed over your clay. We in- 
voke a decision this day. That you may be stimulated 
to a wise choice, we proceed now to lay before you a 
brief synopsis#f the lives of the brothers Allen, who, 
united in life, were scarce separated in death. 

Having consumed much of the time allotted us alrea- 
dy, we cannot enter into a particular detail in the per- 
formance of this mournful task. Passing rapidly over 
this part of our sad duty, we shall strive to present such 
traits as were most conspicuous, and should most excite 
your emulation. 

With Samuel Houston Allen we had not the pleasure 
of an acquaintance, which must serve as an apology for 
not alluding more frequently and particularly to him. — 
He was born Oct. 9th, 1829, and was in his 18th year 
when he died. From a few documents which has been 
furnished us. we learn that all that was dutiful in a son, 
modest in a youth, generous and faithful in a friend, 
were impersonated in the life and conduct of this interest- 
ing young man. To these traits of character many that 
hear me now can bear witness. You knew him in early 
boyhood — the period of life when the fountain of action 
is without the fetters which a better acquaintance with 



140 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

the world throws upon it. You shared an intimacy witli 
him at an age when the conduct is Avithout a mask, and 
knew well the nobleness of his nature. 

After reaching the seat of war, finding his health bro- 
ken so as utterly to unfit him for duty, and not wishing 
to burden the army without being effective, he consented 
to receive an honorable discharge from the service. He 
had proceeded as far as the city of New Orleans, on his 
return home, when disease invaded the citadel of life; and 
he wdio had gone forth full of hope, yielded his spirit 
to God who gave it. 

There was much that was feelingly touching in the 
closing of this young man's mortal career. Our sympa- 
thies are all drawn out as we contemjrtate his death- 
scene: he was far from home, and surrounded by strange 
faces. Had he been called to meet death on the field of bat- 
tle, it would have been far more enviable. There is some- 
thing in such a death that renders the spirit terribly fear- 
less. The war of artillery — the thunder of cannon — the 
clash of steel — the tramp of cavahy — the streaming of 
banners, like thunder clouds against the winds of heaven 
— the dauntless words of the dying — the vision of fu- 
ture glory to our country, breaking upon the failing eyes 
of the pale soldier, as with gaze fixed upon the moving 
symbols of that country, he passes far beyond the milky 
baldric of the skies, to a dominion in which no voice 
of war is ever heard— all contribute to throw around the 
pale horse and his skeleton rider, a glorious enthusiasm 
that renders him a welcome messenger to the stalwart 
■warrior. 

He feels, as life gently drops its veil, and all things 
are shut out from him, tliat posterity will enroll his name 
among the bright catalogue of immortal martyrs; and 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN 141 

thus cheered by tlie veice of fame, he dies as brave sol . 
diers ever die-— mocking the power of the monster. Oh! 
there is about such a departure, a wild, burning enthusi- 
asm, which however impotent in preparing to endure 
throughout that awful eternity which is to follow, divests 
death of its terror, and girds the dying with a rainbow 
of glory. 

Thus die the brave, who sink to rest 
Witli all their country's wishes blest. 

But to linger day by day in an enfeebling contest with 
the destroyer — to look in vain for the familiar faces 
gazed upon in childhood, or the yearning look of love 
that bent over our cradle in watchful solicitude in the 
helplessness and innocence of infancy — to hear no bro- 
ther's voice, or sister's tones, breaking with hope and 
encouragement upon the leaden ear, as death gradually 
seals it to all earthly sounds. To have nothing but vis- 
ions of home and its dear ones, its remembered spots and 
unforgotten things passing before us, without hope of 
ever again mingling with them around the board, or altar 
of prayer. To die alone, or with strangers, and to feel 
that we must sleep with strange compel nions, is to ma, 
indeed, a destiny, the vesture of which is full of melan- 
choly — one too which can only be alleviated by the re- 
flection, that over these, religion can display her brightest 
manifestations, and administer h'^r holiest consolations — 
the sweeter, perhaps, becau:^;e of the absence of all hu- 
man comfort. Such was the death of Samuel Houston 
Allen, and such the consolations he received. 

His death couch was not surrounded by a venerated 
father or a beloved mother, yet the God and Father of 
all was there to give him strength. No faithful brother 



142 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF 

or loving sister hung over him, to wipe from his brow 
the grave's clammy dew; yet blessed be God, Jesus 
Christ, his elder brother, and ministering angels, soon 
to be his companions, among whom perhapj, was his bro- 
ther William, were near, and mysteriously strengthen- 
ed him in that hour of awful struggle 

Thus died our young brother — a christian by profes- 
sion and by practice — a nobleman by nature, and a mar- 
tyr to his country by providence. We mourn his departure 
in humble resignation to the will of Him who hath taken 
him. We * 'mourn not as those withouc hope," for al- 
though the spot that contains his body is not known to 
uSy still God marks it, and in his holy keeping it is safe. 
Yes, 

God his Redeemer lives, 

And ever from the skies 

Looks down and watches o'er his dust 

Till he shall bid it rise. 

With William Bethel Allen our acquaintance was 
more extended. A necessarily brief biography will now 
claim your attention. He was born in Giles county, 
♦State of Tennessee, the 16th of Jan. 1824. His child- 
hood was passed under the eyes of his parents: and if 
it be true that domestic education moulds the future 
man, his father and his mother deserve the highest 
praise for that course of early tracing pursued with 
their son. Kich indeed must be the rev/ard they have 
already shared in the honorable race run by their sons, 
and in its peaceful, though early termination. May their 
example not be lost upon the guardians of the rising gen- 
eration. At the age of 16, William entered Haliden Hill 
Academy, under the superintendence of Mr. W. W. 
Potter, whose fervidly eloquent sketch of the life of the 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 143 

deceased, we have liad the pleasure of perusing. The 
worthy principal of that institution has awarded him the 
highest character as a diligent student, an obedient pu- 
pil, and an humble christian. It was there that he laid 
the groundwork of that ripe scholarship that he ultimate- 
ly attained, and of that warm eloquence of the soul that 
so frequently enchained listening multitudes, and which 
reflects praise alike upon his own untiring industry, and 
upon the qualifications of his preceptors. 

Having completed the course of study preparatory to 
his matriculation at college, he entered the Xashville 
University, under the presidency of that remarkable and 
accomplished scholar, Rev. Dr. Lindsley. 

During his connection with this Institution, we made 
his acquaintance. We but speak what is personal knowl- 
edge when we say, that he had a devotion to books, 
reaching almost to idolatry, and a zeal the most burning : 
an ambition, which, while it aimed at the highest achieve- 
ments, had none of the meagre elemeniis of envy or 
jealousy in it — seeking his own elevation, and wishing 
the while to forward that of others also: a piety whose 
amply laid, and profoundly cherished principles, pre- 
served him from the corruptions attendant upon our 
large cities, and made him a lovely example of reli- 
giously fortilied virtue, towering above vice, and gather- 
ing strength amid surrounding corruption — together with 
a friendship which was blind to all selfishness, and more 
than *'argus eyed" to the interest of those who shared 
it — these were the leading qualities that fired his mind 
and warmed his heart. What we have said is fully 
sustained by the following deserved compliment paid him 
by the learned President of the University, a man whose 
praise is never bestowed but when merited. ''This ex- 



144 LIFE AMD CHARACTER OF 

eellent young man graduated in 1844, having been con- 
nected with the University three years, during ■which 
time he received the entire confidence, and heighest es- 
teem of the faculty and students — he was uniformly the 
example and advocate of every thing that is lovely and 
of good report. 

Having passed the regular term, and coaiiDlet^d the 
prescribed course of studies in that Institution, he re- 
ceived from the proper authority the honors he had won, 
and bid adieu to his beloved Alma Mater, his honored 
preceptors and his cherished class mates, and sought the 
endearments of sweet home and waiting firiends. 

You remember my countrymen — for you were his 
neighbors--the plain simplicity that marked his manners 
upon his return. In some instances, the tendency of 
University associations — city intercourse — fashionable 
minghng, &c., is to create in the mind of the young man, 
whose college ambition w^as, not so much to enrich his 
mind with endearing wisdom, as to enjoy these — a false 
convictionof self importance — an arrogant assumption of 
superiority to which he can lay no claim, and which con- 
verts him into a contemptible coxcomb, instead of one 
worthy to be an example. 

Such however cannot be affirmed of young Allen.--* 
He met you as he had ever done. He affected no city 
exquisitism, but with a friendly smile and a warm grasp, 
he showed that whatever of knowledge he had accumu- 
lated from books, it had not been gained at the sacrifice 
of that simplicity of manner which ought ever to charac- 
terize true republicanism. 

His continuance at home was but short; for he had 
just but received the greetings of kindred and friends, 
before the partiality of the latter placed him before th« 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. Mi 

55Coplc as a candidate for a seat in the State Legislature. 
The lield was new to bim, and doubtless but little con- 
genial to his wishes, yet ever prompt to do service when 
invoked to it, he yielded his consent, and entered upon 
the stormy sea of politics, upon which so many gallant 
young men have been ruined for time and wrecked for 
eternity. The same integrity of character, conscientious 
adherence to truth, and respect for those of diverse sen- 
timents which had distinguished him in youth, and won 
so many warm admirers, were still exhibited. 

Fearless in his defence of the political tenets honestly 
entertained by him; prompt and bold in their vindication, 
he never lost sight of the fact, a conviction of which 
should be settled upon all disputants, that his opponents 
had equal claims to sincerity with himself, and should 
therefore be respected. As an evidence of the exalted 
esteem in which he was held by his fellow-citizens, he 
was chosen by them to represent their interests in the 
councils of the State when he was barely eligible, and that 
too over a competitor of extensive popularity, and whose 
long service and faithful discharge of trust in the Legis- 
lature of his State, had made him emphatically the man 
of the people. 

As a Legislator, his course was such as to meet the 
universal approval of his constituency, upon his return 
to their midst. His position in that body, for strength 
of intellect, valuable information, and clearness of de- 
bate, would have been an honor to a head silvered with 
age. His unbending probity secured for him the confi- 
dence of both parties, while his youthful appearance and 
commanding eloquence won for him the rapt attention 
of the waiting crowd. 



146 LIFE AKD CHARACTER OF 

Soon after bis return from the session of the Legisla- 
ture, another voice broke upon his ear — it was the voice 
of his outraged country, whose rights had long been dis- 
regarded by an ill-judging foe, and whose soil had been 
invaded by that foe. It was the voice of his periled 
countrymen, who were menaced by indiscriminate mas- 
sacre, from superior numbers. The cry which came 
upon the rushing wind, from our little band of regulars, 
stationed with their gallant old leader Gen. Taylor — the 
living Jackson in the present military age — startled him 
from the quietude of home and the endearments of friends. 
It fanned into a conflagration the flame of patriotism that 
had long been gradually kindling upon his heart, and in 
common with many of his early associates, the brave 
sons of his old neighbors, he came forward as a private, 
and added his name to the list of regular soldiers fur- 
nished by your chivalrous country. In companionship 
with these he left you. We will not dwell upon that 
farewell. Let memory turn from it, for it hath too much 
of sadness in it; and to array before you that departing 
column, would be to lift from the past too many blight- 
ed flowers that perished from that hour. 

Such was his popularity, that soon after he reached 
Mexico he was chosen by the company — with whose for- 
tunes he had united his as a common soldier — to com- 
mand them. In his conduct as commander of his com- 
pany, We see exemplified the nobleness of his nature and 
the benevolence of his heart. He claimed no superior 
privileges, no exemptions not awarded the common sol- 
dier. What he had belonged to all who labored and suf- 
fered with him. His devotion to them was superior to 
all selfishness. As an instance, we would refer to his 
declination of the office of Quarter Master, tendered him 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 147 

by President Polk. Writing to his father, under date 
of 14th of Sept. 1846, he says, "I have this day sent 
my resignation to the President who appointed me Quar- 
ter Master. The boys are unwilling to be commandtd 
by any one else. By the grace of God, I will try to lead 
them without dishonor, to victory.'* What afltclion for 
his company I What devotion to his God ! In another 
letter, written during the prevalence of much sickness 
among his troops, he says, **I have thirty-iive or forty of 
my original company who are siill able to march with 
us. They feel like brothers. I regret to leave those be- 
hind who are on beds of affliction. I hope they will soon 
rejoin their friendri. May the great God protect and sup- 
port them in all their trials and alHictions." 

These attachments were not the offering of the occa- 
.sion, so much as the natural yearnings of a soul great 
in its affections. Love of home and its kindred dwellers, 
and of friends tried and true, was a part of the man. — 
To give illustrations of this, we must be permitted to 
make another extract from his correspondence. Writing 
to his parents, he says, "I have been to Point Isabel 
twice, for the purpose of getting a letter or paper from 
home, without success. My anxiety to hear from you is 
as great as is the distance which separates us from each 
other. I would be willing to deprive myself of every oth- 
er earthly possession for the sake of seeing my relations 
and friends. Xever before have I been capable of duly 
appreciating the pleasures of home. Here we are, upon 
an inhospitable and desert island. For U3 no rainbow- 
smiles are wreathed, no hallowed invocation offered. — 
But for thosi! who are fai- away, and who live, and will 
ever live in our affections — for them we have forsaken the 
endearments of home, for them we are T?\iling to fight. 



14S LIFE AND CHARACTER OP 

or for them we are willing to die. Whether we return 
home in time, or fall in the field of battle, T hope that a 
good report will animate usever afterwards, or cheer our 
friends when we are no more." 

These extracts show to us the patriotism by which he 
was incited — the filial affection he possessed, and the 
christian confidence he maintained. 

We approach now, the last act in the eventful drama 
of his short life — the storming of Monterey and his un- 
timely death — and how can we dwell upon it? True it 
is a part of his history, in which we behold a converge- 
ment of the rays of glory, which had been beaming from 
him in increasing majesty from his early boyhood? Yet 
in the midst of it he fell, and no brc aking light can make 
us insensible of the sad truth, that it is but the gorgeous 
garniture of the mourned — the beloved dead. The at- 
traction of that hour, great though it be, cannot divert 
us from a contemplation of our loss; and the achieve- 
ments won in it, can never warm into life the noble hearts 
that then became cold. 

The day ultimately dawned— a day, the coming of 
which had been waited for with feverish im[)atienceby 
the American forces, the day that was to try their un- 
fledged swords, and afford opportunity for gathering im- 
mortal laurels, and avenging the blood of their country- 
men that cried unto them from Palo Alto and Resacade 
la Palma. They had hoped for it long, and had kept 
vigil with the fleeting hours the night before, so eager 
were they for its arrival. It dawned at last. Glittering- 
in the distance might be seen the spires of Monterey — 
calm in the beautiful sunlight that slept upon them— 
«nconscious too, of the awful carnage of which thej 
were to be silent witnesses before that sun should go 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLKK. 149 

down. Behind dark fortifications, that frowned as if 
the scowl of war was upon them, were placed those mes- 
sengers of death — the deep mouthed cannon, those mur- 
derous dogs of war — waiting to be let slip, that they 
might howl the requiem of the departing ghosts of the 
soldier multitude. There was the deep entrenchment be- 
low, and the walled height above, from which pro- 
truded dark implements of death. 

The busy hum, swelling from the warrior men — glit- 
tering bayonets — gleaming swords — waiving plumes — 
columns of infantry — lines of cavalry — the pealing drum 
— the piercing fife — the voice of command — all tell of a 
mighty preparation for the work of death. At length 
they come. The flower of Tennessee are in the van. 
Lovely sons ! would that the doom that hung over many 
of you in that hour of elation could have been averted! 
No! no! The altar is prepared, and ye were to be the of- 
fering Ye were the precious jewels of more than Spar- 
tan mothers, and they sent ye forth, consenting to the sac- 
rifice. Oh! America! America! thou art ever glorious 
whilst thou canst boast such mothers as these. Silently, 
yet with determined step, that van-column marched on 
to certain death. Is there no quivering of muscles? Is 
there no paling of the cheek — nor convulsive trembling 
of lip? There may have been, when the tread of the 
moving host just started, sounded like a sepulchral blast, 
but now there is none. Sometimes perhap^^, as memory 
repaired to the circle of home, and returned with the 
tears of a mother or a sister shed upon their departure, 
and held them before the soldier boy, his heart may have 
beat with wild emotions: yet one thought of his country 
•—his mother — would calm the tumult, and change him 
from the son into the soldier. At length the charge is 



J 60 LIFE AND CHARACTER OP 

pealed along the line. Amid the wild rush of armed 
men— the heaps of slain — and the falling- wounded that 
yielded before the raking fire of the enemy — behold your 
son — your former citizen — your brave leader, with lifted 
sword — the same whose steel, when received from the 
bands of his honored father, he had breathed a vow never 
to dishonor it, and with the voice of the roused and fear- 
less lion, encouraging his followers on to the breech, and 
on to victory, until struck by a cannon ball, he fell! Nor 
does the scene of his earthly glory close here: for grasp- 
ing his sword with the fervor of death, aixd looking for 
the last time upon his wasted column, he exclaims "Bot/9 
lam dying, hut charge the fort:' thus mingling with the 
last gleam of earthly light, the noble principle that gui- 
ded him through hk— patriotic even in death — ''J am 
dying but charge the fort. 

"Life's parting beams were in liis eye. 
Life's closing accents on his tongue. 
When round him pealing to the sky 
The shout of victory rungi 

When e're his gallant spirit fled, 
A smile so bright illumined his face — 
Oh! never of the light it shed 
Shall memory lose a trace. 

His was a death, whose rapture high 
Transcended all that life could yield; 
His warmest prayer was so to die 
On the red battle field. 

And may they feel, who loved him most, 
A pride so holy and so pure — 
Fate hath no power o're those who boast, 
A treasure thus secure." 



CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 14V 

Such was the life and sucTi the death of William B. 
Allen, a man than whom if God ever made a nobler, toe 
never knew them. His life was an examplification of 
patriotism — his death the commanding seal affixed to it: 
and can ye dream that one so rarely gifted — so entirely 
his country's and his God's; and so early called from the 
service of one to be companionship with the other, can 
repose in the grave, in forgotten oblivion? or that no 
voice will ascend from his dusi — no mighty swell from 
his memory? No! though dead, he speaks to us to day. 
Though corruption has claimed his mortal part, his im- 
mortal deeds are ours — ours to cherish and ours to imi- 
tate. People of Lawrence! Freemen of his native State! 
he has bequeathed you a legacy richer than all your 
vast possessions — his own illustrious example. Oh value 
your heritage. Impart it to your babes as you gather 
them around the warm fire for winter evening com- 
munings. In coming years, as your sons visit the neigh- 
boring town, and see an unadorned column rising from 
the earth, tell them of the spotless life — tell them of the 
glorious death of him in commemoration of whom it 
will have been reared. Tell them of his affection for his 
parents — his love of knowledge — his regard for morals 
— his devotion to his country — his fidelity to his God — 
tell them all — and as you send them forth, bid them 
mould themselves by what William B. Allen was. 

Glad am I, that his bones have been gathered from a 
foreign soil, and placed where the tread of a foe can never 
insult them. The heart of his own proud State is a se- 
pulchre worthy of him. Upon her green turf he trod 
when a child, and it is right that that turf should cover his 
clay. Here the emotions of his heart were jBrst quick- 
ened, and then matured; and it is well that that heart 



152 UFE AND CHARACTER O? 

should repose here when it became still. He sleeps m 
your midst. The grave of his childhood has become his 
warrior couch, guarded by the affection of his father and 
the love of his mother. 

"Rest warrior! rest! by the father's hand 
Thither shall the child of after years be led, 
With his humble offering, silently to stand 
In the hushed presence of the glorious dead, 
So rest! warrior! rest! for thou thy path hast trod 
With glory and with God." 

Young men of Tennessee ! Soldiers whom he led to 
victory, to you he still speaks. He calls you by all that 
is lovely in virtue — by all that was of good report in his 
conduct, and that was glorious in his death, to be emu- 
lous of doing good to your God and to your country. 

He is not with you now — he is gone. Strive in the 
great battle of life to keep his example before you, so 
that its close may be marked by equal triumph. Kin- 
dred of my dear young friends? Father! Mother! 
though gone they speak to you. They address you from 
the past. Their warm affection, uniform obedience, and 
kind words, speak consolation to you in your tears. 
They speak to you from their heavenly abode. Beauti- 
ful voices steal down out of heaven to cheer you now. 
They whisper of the departed. They tell you of the 
temple in which they dwell, and of which, in a little time 
you are to become occupants — of the waiving fruit — the 
glad river — the blessed songs — the waiting friends — they 
tell you of heaven, and bid you be ready to scale the 
inaccessible heights, and share those joys forever more. 
Speak on! beloved ones! we hear your distant voices and 
hope soon to see you as you are, and so be ever with the 
Lord. PHIL. P. NEELY. 

Columbia, Tenn., Au(/. Sth, 1847. 



APPEIDIX 



SPEECHES AND ESSAYS, 

By CAPTAIN 'WM. B. ALLEN. 



A SPEECH, DELIVERED IN THE PRESIDENTIAL 
CAMPAIGN OF 1844. 

Fellow-citizens: — A period is approaching, in the his- 
tory of our country, of no ordinary inlerest and concern. 
A battle is now being fought, bravely and earnestly, 
that is to settle for years to come, the questions at issue 
between the parties. It is gratifying to me to observe 
with what enthusiasm and fire the democracy have been 
ficjhtino^ this battle. Althouo-h instances are on record 
of men entering a contest with fearlessness of spirit and 
burning zeal, whose ardor was damped and energy 
weakened before it was over, it is a cheerins: fact, that 
so far as the democracy are concerned, not one single 
feather has been plucked from their caps, and by their 
unanimity and assistance, the contest will wax warmer 
and warmer until victory, joyous victory, will crown their 
eflforts, and our long cherished principles be restored to 
their natural position. Although I have been so cir- 
cumstanced that I could participate but seldom in the 



1 64 APPENDIX. 

exultations which have gone up to lieaven from the 
proud hearts of freemen, I have nevertheless, been 
privileged occasionally to attend most of their numerous 
meetings, and united with them in their patriotic rejoic- 
ings. Tiie country is all on fire — it burns brilliantly and 
gloriously all over the land — and right here where the 
people ought to be free from the curses of corporated 
establishments and the imposition of oppressive burthens 
— here in hearing of our distinguished leader who is to 
lead us on to victory, let the clarion voice of the democ- 
racy be heard longer and loudest. Let the people from 
the adjoining States hear it, and let them raise the shout 
and echo it from hill to hill, from hovel to hovel, until 
nought else will be heard but the exultation of the 
unterrified democracy. Shall this be the case my coun- 
trymen? Shall leagued oppression ever gain the 
ascendency in this country? Every voice is ready to 
exclaim it shall never be — every heart swells the anthem 
and exclaims forbid it Heaven! Let the ball then in 
this contest be kept rolling, and let no one despair of 
success. I believe the people in Tennessee are firmly 
united, and genuine, sterling democrats. The people 
have been divided bv followincf diflT^rent favorites, some 
of whom have made a ship-wreck of their political 
faith. Who does not well remember the lime when we 
were all united in supporting zealously, and harmoni- 
ously, and unanimoursly, the administration of the 
immortal Jackson? We were all one under his banner. 
We supported him not only for his patriotism, but we 
agreed with him in the measures which characterized 
his administration. How have the people become 
estranged from him? How have they forsaken their 
old principles, which they were once willing and ready 



APPENDIX. 1 55 

to make any saerifice to mantain? I ask the candid, 
honest whig to ask himself this single, isolated question. 
Can you reconcile your present course by your former? 
You wlio supported through State pride or through 
principle, Judge White, a man no less distinguished for 
his honest patriotism, than his eminent abilities as a 
statesman, and believing him at the same time to be, in 
every respect, a better Jackson man than Mr. Vau 
Buren, would do well to examine the causes of your 
opposition to the democratic party? In your zeal for 
Judge White's promotion, did you agree with him in 
principle? If so, how does it happen you are in favor 
of a National Bank by federal authority, and a protective 
tariff, measures to which he is well know to have been 
hostile from a consideration of his public acts in the 
Senate of the United Spates and elsewhere? You can- 
onize his memory and profess to have unlimited confi- 
dence in his judgment, yet you oppose the essential 
measures Avhich characterized the v/hole course of his 
public acts. Whence this change? Whence this glar- 
ing, palpable inconsistency? Pave the people changed? 
Upon what principles pray? Were there any acknowl- 
edged party division drawn upon the faith of principle 
in that contest which rent in twain the republicans of 
Tennessee? There were none, absolutely none. I 
appeal to history and experience for the truthfulness of 
this asseveration. You were then Southern men, having 
southern ititerests to succor and protect, and Tennessee, 
proud and chivalrous as she then was, stood as one man, 
contending zealously and indefatigably and patriotically 
against Banking corporations and the duties on foreign 
goods beyond the requisite amount t» defray the 
economical expenditures of the government. This was 



1 56 ' APPENDIX. 

the doctrine held, in all sincerity, by the wise, disinter- 
ested patriots and war-worn veterans of our revolution, 
whose blood flowed out in fountains to redeem their 
country from the curses of British taxation. And now^ 
after having made several experiments without sufficient 
cause of a repetition, we are again called upon to support 
such an institution, as, in my humble estimation comes 
directly in conflict with the best interests of the countrv, 
as it certainly does destroy that horizontal equalization 
which forms the basis of our Government. That it is a 
lucrative business to a few individuals who possess a little 
capital and invest it in Bank Stock, is quite certain. 
But that it benefits at large the whole American people, 
in all their varied interests and dealings, would be an 
admission unauthorised by evidence and unfounded in 
truth. The fate of the late Bank, with all its crimes of 
commission and omission, is known too well to require 
an attentive review now. That it was not strictly speak- 
ing a Bank of the United States of the removal of the 
deposits, may be admitted, as it is admitted, without at 
once invalidating the conclusions we have drawn, for the 
United States Bank of Pennsylvania, as it was called, 
was not altered in any of its important features from 
its primitive form, and Mr. Biddle, himself, the President 
of the Bank, declared the State Bank was on a surer 
basis than before the stock of the Government had been 
removed. But why speak of this measure? We are to 
speak of the living and not the dead. The Bank ques- 
tion, is now, "to all intents and purposes" an obsolete 
idea. If not, why do not its favorites and advocates 
make it the absorbing question in this canvass, as they 
«ertainly did in 1840? The only reason I can assign, is, 
that the times wont justify it. Under the pressure of 



APPENDIX. 157 

pecuniary embarrassment, thousands of honest men 
were induced to vote for such an institution as a relief 
measure, as they thought, but finding now that rehef is 
making its appearance without any such artificial agen- 
cies, they are unwilling to be deceived longer. Every 
man knows that exchanges are better than they generally 
were during the existence of the Bank. These and 
many other considerations, have, no doubt induced the 
whigs to consign that question "to the tombs of the 
Capulets." The next subterfuge of the party is the 
Tariff. They tell the people that it is politic and expe- 
dient for our Government to protect home industry 
against foreign industry. But whom do they propose 
to protect? Is it the honest farmer who cultivates the 
soil? Is it the hard-working man who has settled him a 
home in the west, where he hopes to settle his children 
upon comfortable and suitable farms? Is it the man 
who has him a home in the bosom of the forest as it 
were, that this shield is to cover? No sir. It's the 
manufacturer who asks and implores Congress to give 
him this advantage. What does he ask it for? Is it 
that he may sell his articles cheaper? This would be 
the worst of folly. If I understand them, the foreigners 
"undersell them, and they want the tariff that they may 
realize higher prices. And who pays the money? It's 
the hard-fisted farmer who has never implored Cono^ress 
importunately and repeatedly for protection in his line of 
business, that has to pay it. If industry is to be pro- 
tected at all, it does seem to me that it, should be done 
in all its branches. Or as our leader says, "It is the 
duty of the Government to extend, as far as it may be 
practical to do so, by its revenue laws and all other 
m«ans within its power, fair and just protection to aH 



1 68 APPENDIX. 

the great interests of the Union, embracing agriculture, 
manufactures, the mechanic arts, commerce, and navi* 
gation." We are told that it is British and not American 
goods we are taxing. Well if by taxing English we 
could make them pay for it, I would go wiih you in that 
measure, but when we examine the matter we find we 
are taxing British goods and making ourselves pay for 
it — -'that's the rub." The money comes out of our own 
pockets not Englishmen's. 

A few more y/ords and I have done. It is scarcely 
necessary that 1 should speak of the cheering prospects 
that smile upon our efforts in the cause in which we are 
engaged. Wherever an issue has been made by the 
unbought expression of the peopk's will, the democracy 
has done nobly. The merited frowns of a people 
indignant at past injuries are resting upon those who, 
by their acts, are endeavoring to change this Republic 
into a Consolidated Government. The spirit of our 
patriot fathers rise up from their graves and condemn it. 
Upon the preservation of the "social compact" depends, 
in a great measure, the perpetuity and happiness of the 
whole country. The man that advocates consolidation- 
ism on the one hand, or disunion on the other, is ignobly 
base, and deserves the universal hatred of mankind. 
However much men may be disposed to differ in opinion 
upon subjects connected with the administration of 
government, upon one thing they do agree — -that this 
Union must be preserved at every peril. lie that antici- 
pates and wishes its dismemberment is not worthy, in 
the least degree, of enjoying those favored blessings 
Providence has spread so profusely about us. He 
deserves to spend a miserable existence in some dark, 
cheerless abode, where Heaven's free sun never flings 



APPENDIX. 159 

lais radiant smiles. When such a factious, disorganizing- 
spirit is once aroused, (and which may Heaven merci- 
fully avert,) the depository of all our dearest hopes and 
brightest anticipations is assailed, and the strong arms 
and stout hearts of our cilizeus may not be able to 
quell it. In all our eagerness to support men we should 
always keep an eye single to our country, for what is the 
elevation or depression of any man when compared with 
her preservation, pei'petuity and happiness? If men 
prove false to those interests entrusted to their care — if 
they are guilty of a flagrant and open violation of those 
pledges upon the faith of which they are promoted to 
office — if they become negligent and careless about 
adhering strictly and faithfully to the "letter and spirit 
of the constitution," they should not only be watched 
• with a zealous and suspicious eye, but hurled headlong 
from their high places; into the deep den of infamy and 
disgrace, which, 1 must confess, has been the recipient of 
a smaller number than justice demands. Men may be 
boisterous and noisy about their })alriotism and fidelity, 
but we should examine v/itu care their acts, for by their 
acts ye shall knovr them. Men sliould be nothing, and 
principles everything. Upon this maxim the fathers of 
the constitution acted. If we are ever so recreant to 
our trust, as to support men zealously, without any 
regard to the measures they would be most likely to 
carry out, ar.d in so doing our system of equality is 
destroyed by a latitudinarian construction of the consti- 
tution on the part of those receiving our favors, the 
greatest curses th^it could rest upon a people will hang 
like angry clouds about us. Men's opinions must be 
known, that he that rans may understand them. Any 
doctrine that infringes upon the rights of the humblest 



IGO IPFENDIS. 

©itizen of the country, ought to be discarded, jfor 
although it operates advantageously to one class, it proves 
to be prejudicial to the other. No patriot could wish 
these favors, when he is told that others entitled to the 
same protection from government are groaning under its 
oppression. If there be any beauty or excellence in our 
Government, every individual under its fostering wing 
takes part of the honor to himself. If it should prove a 
curse to us, in the name of fairness, let us all, not a few — 
but let us all partake of its evils. If the vessel of State, 
with all its stars and stripes is to strike a quicksand, and 
to be scattered in dishonored and disorganized fragments 
upon the bufFetting waves, I for one, am willing to share 
the fate of the crew on board, let it be what it may. 
But we should be cautious in getting a pilot and helms- 
man to guide us in safety from the rocks. He should be 
cold, calculating, prudent — a cool head and stout heart, 
with the circumspection of command and an invincible 
will that can say to the waves, ''peace be still," and the 
storm ceases. He that possesses an oversweeping 
ambition that swells into proud insolence when irritated 
by casual disappointment, is dangerous to be trusted 
with such an important charge, for like Phseton, who 
overturned the chariot of the sun, and sat the world on 
fire, he may overturn the vessel at his discretion. But 
such a spirit will be hurled from his seat not by Jupiter's 
thunderbolt, but by the omnipotency of the people's will. 
The man we are willing to be our leader possesses none 
of these dangerous qualities — he is an honest man — 
"the noblest work of God." He has stood by his coun- 
try in the darkest period of her history, and never 
forsook her. He has fought and done battle nobly in 
defence of that pyramid of principle erected as the 



APPENDIX. 161 

proudest monument of the wisdom of our ancestors.— 
By its side he has professed a willingness to stand, or 
fall at the solid base upon which the superstructure if? 
reared, with the stars and stripes of his country windin;^ 
around him. He is one of those concurring fully in the 
opinion expressed by Mr. Jefferson, that the "mass of 
mankind had not been born with saddles on their backs, 
nor a favored few booted and spurred ready to ride them 
legitimately by the grace of God." He is in favor of an 
equal distribution of justice to all — special privileges to 
none. He wants the government to extend its sovereign 
arm of protection around all of its citizens. He believes, 
as he lias expressed it, that "it is the duty of the gov- 
ernment to extend, as far as may be practicable to do so, 
by its revenue laws, and all other means within its power, 
fair and just protection to all the great interests of the 
Union, embracing agriculture, manufactures, the me- 
chanic arts, commerce and navigation.'* Here is a 
statesman for you, whose heart is as large as the whole 
country — whose wishes are to encourage all departments 
of human industry by all fair and efficient agency of the 
government. How nobly and honorably do his viewis 
contrast with his opponent's, who avows that "agricul- 
ture needs no protection?" But I leave this and similar 
questions to be decided by the great American people. 
The time is not far distant when these things will be set- 
tled beyond a doubt. The battle is to be fought upon 
principle. You who believe in the measures which were 
held to be sacred by the sterling patriots who framed 
the Constitution, are invited, as you arc exhorted, to 
rally to the support of Polk, Dallas, Texas, Oregon and 
tiie Constitution. Judging from the recent indications 
which have developed themselves in the State electiors 
K 



\iyi APPENDIX. 

•which are just over, we have high and gratifying assu- 
rances of triumpliant victory on the first Monday of Ko- 
vember next. In every instance where an issue has 
been made by the people, our cause has been sustained 
bv increased numbers who have said in their might, they 
will stand by it or fall with it. When men who have 
filled a large space in the public eye, are daily divesting 
themselves of habiliments of whiggery, may we not 
reasonably infer'that thousands and scores, not so pro- 
ii;inent, though equally honest, will in the face of all the 
evidences which truth can afford, renounce allegiance to 
the party that has proved recreant to the many solemn 
pledges they so earnestly made, and so willingly and 
probably conscientiously disregarded? The waters are 
being moved and agitated. The tide of popular indig- 
nation is rising high against those who have been wafted 
into favor upon its powerful current, and now threatens 
with little or no hape of avoiding it, to overwhelm those 
who have enjoyed the luxury of riding upon its majestic 
])Osom. Truly may it be said, the way of the trans- 
gressor is hard. Who, under the weight of the astound- 
in;>- weight given already by the people, can anticipate 
anything like certainty for the success of whiggery. — 
Has not State after State, in unbroken line, f.xed a seal 
of condemnation upon the great embodiment, that he 
might deceive the nations no longer. And as sure as 
the presidential election shall roll round, a shout such as 
was never heard before, will arise from every section of 
the Union, proclaiming that Babylon the great has fallen. 
Along the length and breadth of our land, will burst the 
shouts of triumph. The people's artillery, bloodless 
though condemnatory, will thunder forth the deafening 
notes that '^ws have met the enemy and they are ours." 



APPENDIX. IflU 

Then, then fellow-citizens, will these inquisitorial, party- 
serving, editorial scribblers, know to their infinite sorrow 
and mortification, who James K. Polk is? 

"Closed is the brunt of the glorious fight, 
' And the day, like a conquerer, bursts ou the night, 
Trumpet and fife, swelling choral along, 
The triumjjh already sweeps marching iu song." 

Do your duty, democrats, and there is no cause for 
fear. That you will do that, I have not the least doubt. 
Tennessee must and will be redeemed. March up then 
to the election, with a determination to loose no honor- 
able means on your part to secure that result. In the 
contest which is nearly over, be firm and immovable, 
never for a moment forgetting that "our principles are 
our shield, justice our sword, and our battlements are 
the hearts of the people." 

A SPEECH OX THE ANNEXATION OF TEXAS. 
Fdlow Citizens: — Our Constitution and laws guaran- 
tee to every citizen of tlie United States, protection from 
injury and a continuation of equal favors. He that is 
raised in a splendid mansion "whose lofty tops ambient 
clouds conceal," or in the most indifferent hovel, situ- 
ated in some bleak solitary waste, exults in the conscious- 
ness that this government will ever throw around him 
the broad, impenetrable a^gis of its protection. He 
knows the objects for which governments were instituted, 
and considers himself an integral part of its machinery. 
To secure these blessings arising from an uninterrupted 
eojoyraent of conscious security, the torch of the revolu- 
tion was lit, and this fair land enveloped in one general 
conflagration. For this our fathers barred their bosoma 



164 APPENDIX. 

to the storms of a seven years war. For this they fronted 
with unrelenting firmness the British Commons, and 
bid defiance to its deafening thunders. For this they 
dissolved all connection v/ith the mother country, form- 
ing a Constitution of their own. For the maintenance 
of our rights, the second war of our Independence was 
fought, which has illumined witii a blaze of glory the 
history of Tennessee chivalry. Some of the invincible 
sons of Tennessee, animated by no other zeal than in- 
tense patriotism, prompted by no other motives but to 
render useful service to their country, shouldered their 
muskets and marched to the plains of New Orleans, and 
made their own bosoms a breastwork to the enemy. — 
The battle was vv^on, peace was restored, and their 
hearts beat rapturous joy. After performing these feats 
of noble daring, after having conquered the pride of the 
British army, they crossed the Sabine, and settled their 
homes where they fancied to spend the remainder of 
their lives. They expected that the wounds they had 
received in battle would be healed, and never again be 
exposed to the application of the sabre and sword. But 
how infinite their surprise, how intense their mortifica- 
tion, how distressed their looks must have been, when 
they received the intelligence that by the treaty of 1819, 
they had been sold to the Spanish monarch. Was net 
the United States bound to protect them, by its Consti- 
tution? Had they not a right to expect it? And yet, 
from a free government, by unwise negotiation, they 
had been transferred to a monarchy, against which, oa 
a former occasion, they had freely offered their lives. — 
This is not all, my countrymen. They submitted ^ 
their unjust treatment in a manner becoming their con- 
ditions. But soon the Spanish yoke became so galling; 



APPENDIX. 165 

that they were unwilling to bear it longer. The Mexi- 
can Revolution ensued, and these old soldiers, who had 
fought under Gen. Jackson at the battle of New Orleans, 
were again found on the side of liberty, fighting man- 
fully for freedom. The result of that Revolution is well 
known. It is scarcely necessary to state, that the Mexi- 
cans were successful, and they, in 1824, formed what 
was called the Confederative system. The rights of the 
people were again insulted, and they were loudly called 
to redress the grievances. The military despot, Santa 
Anna, laid his iron grasp upon that system, and attempt- 
ed and effected its dissolution. Texas peremptorily re- 
fused acquiescence with the other States, and she met, 
in proud triumph, the Dictator in the battle of San Ja- 
Jacinto, prostrating inevitabl}'', all hope on the part of 
Mexico, to conquer and subjugate Texas. This was the 
third memorable battle in which these old soldiers had 
been engaged, in all of which they were found invari- 
ably on the side of liberty. And now, after having ex- 
hausted their treasure and their blood, with tlie seal of 
age fastened upon their infirmities, they ask in tones of 
impassioned eloquence, in cries of- continued importuni- 
ty, in the voice of justice and humanity, that the United 
States will receive them into that embrace from which 
they were unwillingly forced. Their pilgrimage in life 
is nearly ended, their wounds will soon cease to bleed, 
and their brave hearts cease to beat. They ask this 
not as a boon, but as a right; not in their own behalf, 
but in the name of their children, and their children's 
children. Who that is not lost to all sense of compas- 
sion and commiseration, can say that this desirable ob- 
ject shall not be obtained in consequence of a certain 
man's opposition to it, who wants to be President? 



IQ6 APPENDIX. 

A SPEECH, DELIVERED AT THE JACKSON CELE- 
BRATION, IN 1845. 
Fellow- Citizens: — After the delivery of the very ablo 
and eloquent address which you have this day heard, it 
would be unpardonable presumption in me to attempt to 
say much in addition. I feel myself incompetent to 
succeed with effect, a man possessing such a store-house 
of knowledge, such diversified and rich talent, and such 
a vivid flowery imagination, as the distinguished orator 
of the day. Our theme, vast as it is in extent, and in- 
teresting and marvelous, when portrayed in all the col- 
ors of Avhich it is susceptible, could not be exhausted in 
the short space to which an address must necessarily be 
limited. We have met here, on this the Sabbath-day of 
Freedom — the Jubilee of our Independence — bringing 
the offerings of grateful hearts, and depositing them 
around the altar of our common country. The time and 
circumstance under the auspices of which we have con- 
vened, conspire, eminently and supremely, to unite us 
together in a community of feeling — to hush in the 
silence of forgetfulness for a moment, the discordant 
thunders which proceed from the bosom and angry fury 
of a political storm — and to bury our local and section- 
al prejudices and antipathies in the remembrance of the 
past. We come together in the presence of the great 
God of battles, whose omnipotent arm encircled and 
shielded our patriot armies in the time that tried men's 
souls, to commemorate the life and services of one of the 
most distinguished men that this or any other age has 
produced. Fathers, friends, countrymen, the great Jack- 
son is no more! He whose name was once a terror to 
invading armies, and at whose command our belligeranfe 
forces were conducted to victory and to glory, has gone, 



APPENDIX. 167 

we trust, with the armies of the reedcemed, to a country 
beyond the skies. The patriot and soldier, the states- 
man and the sao^e, at an advanced a<se, thousjh full of 
usefulness, has conr}uered the last enemy, death, and i.s 
gathered with his fathers and compatriots in arms, in 
the bright realms of fadeless, unwithering glory. — 
If he has ever done wrong, as he undoubtedly has, let 
them be buried Avith him. If he possessed virtues, and 
he had many, let them be emblazoned high on the page 
of history, let them be engraven on the tablets oi 
memory, and celebrated in song. Let the aspiring youtir, 
surrounded by the most difficult and trying scenes, look 
with bright hopes to the example of Jackson. If he is 
destitute of friends in the time of trial, let him remem- 
ber that by acting well his part in life, he will finally 
elicit the phiudits of admiring freemen. This dispensa- 
tion of Providence also reminds us impressively and for- 
cibly of the mutability of all human affairs — that no 
station, however exhalted, exempts one from the sum- 
mons that is to be made upon us all. 

The question might be asked, why this parade — why 
this demonstration of feeling? The answer is plain. — 
We meet to pay suitable respect to the memory of him, 
who came like the Roman general, saw and conquered 
the enemy of our country. 

"Patriots liave toils, and in their country's cause 
Bled nobly, and their deeds, as they deserve. 
Receive proud recompense. We give in charge 
Their names to the sweet lyre. The historic muse, 
Proud of her treasure, marches with it down 
To latest timps; and sculpture, in her turn. 
Gives bond in stone and ever during brass, 
To guard them and immortalize her trust." 



108 APPENDIX. 

If monumental piles, and statues of marble and gold 
are being erected in honor of those distinguished for 
their wisdom, and renowned for their courage — if patri- 
otism has erected its thousand altars to the skies, and 
i^enius bowed its head to receive the green laurels of 
fame, wreathed by the hands of its votaries, may we not 
lit least give utterance to the language of our hearts, 
expressive of the estimation in which we hold the hero 
and sage, for his invincible bravery and exalted patriot- 
ism — for the undying blaze of glory he has shed around 
])is country, by his statesman-like virtues and military 
])rowess? To perpetuate his memory, and transmit it to 
all future time, there is required no storied urn — no 
monumental inscription. He yet lives in the hearts of 
the people, and his councils are not forgotten. His name 
lias not and will not loose that potency with which it was 
invested in doing good. Yes, 

"When the storm of battle pours. 
And the invader's ruthless hand. 
Fiercely on these western shores 
Seeks to conquer freedom's land, 
Sternly grapphng with the foe, 
la the battle's redest flame, 
"Where's the brave heart will not' glow 
Wlien we breathe old Jackson's name?" 

He has lived loner enouorh to see this the most flourish- 
ini^ nation on earth. Af^riculture is advancinor — Manu- 
factures are springing into existence as by magic — Com- 
merce spreads her canvass-wings upon every ocean — 
Internal Improvement is spreading its Briareus hands in 
every direction. Emphatically is this an age of im- 
provement. Science, Argus-eyed, is erecting its hun- 
dreds of observatories, and extending its researches far 



APPENDIX. 10 

nnd wide — Schools are springing up in every neighbor- 
hood, from which emanate the rays of intellectual light 
— the wilderness has been made to blossom, as a rose 
under seasonable and effectual cultivation — towns are 
Blrewing themselves all over the West — our people have 
been multiplied from three to twenty millions of souls — 
our sisterhood of States has been augmented from 13 to 
29 — Plorida, low^a and Texas, are members of the 
American family. Of a truth did Bishop Berkley say, 

"Westward the course of empire takes its way." 

But it is not our purpose to speak of the rapid devel- 
opments that have beeii made in the physical condition 
of the country. We are to speak of liim for whom the 
nation is in weeds of mourning. He lived to an age to 
which but few have attained, and could look back to his 
boyhood to a well spent life. He has survived most of 
his compatriots and soldiers in arms who were engaged 
with him in defending our rights. A few yet remain 
among us. Yes, I see before me to-day, a remnant of 
that little band— that time worn fragment of the second 
war for Independence, who have met with us to pay 
suitable tribute of respect to their departed chief. Eter- 
nal be the remembrance of his fame, and peace to hh 
manes! is the patriot's earnest prayer. 

"The cause he espoused in his earliest youth, 

Is the star which led him to glory; 

*Twas the cause of his country, of justice and truth. 

And his name shall illumin our story; 

But ye demons incarnate whose hopes are all crushed. 

And whose prospects are blighted forever, 

Your vile tongues are palsied, your slanders are hushed, 

And the hero shines brighter than ever.'* 



170 APPENDIX. 

If in a long life of brilliant usefulness, he has ever 
acted improperly when invested with the ensigns of 
office, it was in view of his country's glory; if he stood 
proudly at his post of duty, in defiance of the opposition 
with which he had to contend, it was because circum- 
stances rendered it necessary; if he ever acted t^e part 
of a tyrant, of which he has been wantonly accused, it 
was that you might be free. From his boyhood to the 
time of his death, his exertions were used in opposition 
to oppression, in any of its protean forms or disguises. 
But it is not necessary that I should say any thing by 
way of eulogy upon that eminently distinguished man. 
His fame is co-exlensive with civilization itself, and his 
virtues are wiitten upon the tablets of memory, w^hicli 
the waters of Lethe cannot efface. His looks and actions 
I shall never forget while memory holds its sceptre. I 
saw him at his home — to which strangers resort to see 
him of whom they have heard. I saw him not as a 
eonquercr, returning from the field of carnage with his 
garments dyed in the blood of the slain — not as an ora- 
tor, at whose impassioned appeals assembly burst forth 
m spontaneous plaudits — not with the civic wreathe 
around his aged brow as it once was, but as an humble 
citizen. His frame that once stood erect before the 
thunders of British artillery, was bending over the staff 
of infirmity; but see him aroused and animated upon 
some great national question in which his feelings were 
enlisted, and you could see in his eyes a hundred battle- 
fields, and every one a victory — you could catch the in- 
spiration of the fire that burned in his manly bosom 
when in the field giving command to an eager and patri- 
otic soldiery. Of him it might be said in truth, 



APPENDIX. 171 

"The elements 
So niix'd in him, that Kature might stand up 
And say to all the world — this is a man." 

When I took my leave of him for the last time, with 
the tenderness of a father he took me by the hand, and 
with tears streaming down his faded cheek, he invoked 
Heaven's choicest, purest blessings upon my head along 
the rough journey of life. Never shall I forget that last 
interview. I'll retain it in this heart of hearts as long 
as I live. I'll remember his council, and practice upon 
the principles he has laid down. He knew he was not 
mistaken, when he said that by the aid of an untarnished 
moral character, and unremitting industry, a youth, poor 
and without influential friends as he may be, can be 
successful in all his laudable enterprises. Upon this, let 
every young man build his hopes, who wishes eventually 
to record his name high on the temple of fame, and en- 
roll it eventually with those of the Washingtons, the 
Franklins, the Jeffersons and Jacksons who have gone 
before him. Though the waves of misfortune may dash 
furiously about him, and the clouds of opposiiion aris^ 
upon the horizon of his hopes, let him not be discour- 
aged, for Jackson too had all these to overcome. But 
the more numerous and imminent the perilous scenes 
through which he had so pass, the brighter is the crown 
of glory that he wore. We may talk in extravagant 
praises of the host of worthies whose services have been 
employed without wariness in advancing our country, 
but where is a name that adorns the pages of our histo- 
ry with a brighter halo around it, save the Father of his 
Country? True it is, some have their fears about the 
probable degeneracy of statesman virtues, but let them 
not despair. We may not point to a few public men, 



172 APPENDIX. 

nnd say of them it is true that there stand the choicest 
spirits of the age, <fec. 

[Mr. Allen seems not to have finished the writing out of this 
Speech.] 



REMARKS OF MR. ALLEN". 
On the Sihof J'anuary, 1846, on the Bill proposing to erect 
a Statue and Monument to Gen. Jackson. 
Mr. Speaker: — When the proposition was first made 
to erect a statue of "imperishable bronze," to be placed 
in the Capitol of the State when finished, and a monu- 
ment in accordance with the recommendation of the Gov- 
ernor in his Inaugural Address, to be placed on the bank 
of the "noblest river in the world, where the millions 
who will pass for ages and ages to come, may pause and 
gaze upon it with wonder and admiration," in perpetua- 
tion of the memory of Gen. Andrew Jackson, I did not 
intend to say one word upon the subject. I do not now 
rise for the purpose of discussing the merits of the bill, 
nor to pronounce a studied and inflated panegyric upon 
the life and character of Gen. Jackson. He needs none 
ac my hands. The country he contributed so largely 
and freely to defend is vocal with his praise. Plis pub- 
lic acts from the time he entered the councils of the na- 
tion (to say nothing of his military prowess,) to the day 
lie retired with dignity to the shades of private life, are 
sufficient and enduring testimonials of his greatness. — 
These have been portrayed to us in the most eloquent 
language by the gentlemen from the county of Sumner, 
(Mr. Guild,) who enjoys the honor of introducing the bill. 
ftnd by the rich oratory of the Representative from 
Washington, (Mr. Haynes.) They have expressed th« 



APPENDIX. 1731 

hope wliicli I here take occasion to renew, that the bill 
will pass by acclamation — that however widely and ma- 
terially certain members may differ with Gen. Jacksoa 
upon political questions, they will illustrate their magna- 
nimity by awarding to his memory its just deserts. — 
That a portion of his political enemies in this body will 
do this, we have the most convincing and satisfactory 
testimony. 

It is a cherished desire by members on this side of tlje 
House that nothing of a party character shall enter into 
our deliberations upon this question. Such a feeling and 
disposition on such an occasion, should animate every 
bosom. It is a state of things most "devoutly to be 
wished." These expectations and hopes may yet be re- 
alized. No person would rejoice at it with more un- 
feigned satisfaction than myself. Who wishes to see the 
glorious 8th of Januarj' dessecrated by the representa- 
tives of the people, in widening the breach between the 
two parties, when an identity of interest should make 
them more united? If there be such an individual, I can 
only say that I do not envy his feelings. After premi- 
sing these remarks, it is due to candor and truth, that I 
should say, from the indications made, we will not act to- 
gether with that unanimity and concert so ardently hoped 
for. Already has the demon of party been aroused from 
iL3 lair. Its tendency is to frighten members from ibe 
support of such measures as they conscientiously approve. 
To those who are aiding in fanning the flames, I would 
•ay with becoming respect, beware unless you suffer by 
the conflagration you are instrumental in creating. Those 
few choice sprits whose policicai identities are adverse tc» 
my own, who have the independence and moral Crmne?'* 
t/j sustain the bill, will be greeted and cheered by the plau- 



174 APPENDIX. 

dils of the liberal men of all parties. But with tho 
course lionorable gentlemen may think proper to pursue 
upon this question, I have nothing to do. They, like 
myself, are responsible to their country for their acts. 

I will not, however, disguise the fact, that I was not 
a little surprised at the introduction of the amendment 
to the bill by the Representive from the country of Madi- 
son (Mr. Bullock.) Knowing that there was an inkling 
towards opporiition to the bill as it was first introduced 
on the part of some of our whig friends, and in order 
that they might be reconciled to vote for it, by general 
consent, we agreed to strike out the two first sections of 
the bill which made an appropriation from the Treasury. 
After doing this, we had the assurance that they would 
cease their hostility to the measure. But, sir, we were 
mistaken. It pains me to make tliis announcement, but 
ilhtrue. What now do we hear? A voice of opposi- 
tion coming up by way of amendment, after previous 
concessions and compromises. And by whom has it ori- 
ginated? By a leading member of the whig party, as 
personated in the Representative from Madison (Mr. Bul- 
lock.) The amendment, to say the least of it, is an in- 
sidious attack upon the bill. This may be strong lan- 
guage, but not stronger than the occasion will justify. 
The gentleman may be sincere when he expresses a hop* 
that the bill will pass. 1 don't stand up here to impeach 
liis sincerity. But, sir, we will try men's faith by their 
works. Here is a Procrustean standard by which the 
member may regulate his friendship for the bill. It may 
be found in the proposition made by the gentleman from 
Washington (Mr. Haynes.) 1 now call upon my friend 
from Madison, for whom I cherish none other than the 
kindest feelings, to unite with us upon this qu -slioa. 



APPENDIX. 17.5 

What is the object of the amendment offered by the gen- 
tleman from Madison? It proposes also the erection of 
a statue to the memory of Georg-e Washington, "the de- 
fender of his country, the founder of Hberiy, the fiiend 
of man." To the amendment, if it had been offered as a 
substantive proposition, and in good faith, no individual 
could reasonably object. P>ery Tennessean, csperiuUy, 
who is proud of his "own, his native land," would be 
glad to see such a statue to ihe memory of the greatest 
man that ever lived, who "in the annals of modern great- 
ness, stands alone, and the noblest names of anticjuity 
lose their lustre in his presence." ]jut serious fears arc 
entertained ihat it will have a tendency to embarrass the 
passage of the bill. If satisfied that such will not be 
the case, I would gladly see it incorporated as a part of 
tfie bill. So far, however, as the perpetuation of his 
fame is concerned, no monument need be erected. He 
has built his "monument in the hearts of his country- 
men," and his fame is co-extensive with civilization it- 
self. But it has been an immemorial and time-hallowed 
custom to erect such monuments to the distinguished 
dead in all ages of the world. The United States is no 
V'M proud of her great men than other nations. •She 
will everembalm, in greatful recollection, the invincible 
defenders of her liberty. 

"Patriots have toiled, and in their country'ri cause 
Bled nobly. And their deeds as they deserve, 
Jleceive proud recompense. We give in charge, 
Their names to the sweet lyre. The historic muse, 
Proud of her treasure, marches with it down 
To latest times; and sculpture in lier turn 
Gives bond, in stone, and ever-during brass. 
To guard thuai, and immyrtalia'i hor trust." 



176 APPENDIX. 

The erection of a statue to the father of hn country 
would seem to be more appropriately a national objecfc 
■which every citizen of the Union, however humble and 
obscure, may contribute his free-will offering. In the 
Capitol at Washington stands in unmutilated and unsul- 
lied grandeur his sculptured form. It belongs to the 
whole nation. If gentlemen are sincere in what they 
profess, and I impeach the purity of no man's motives, 
the time may not be far remote when the Capitol of our 
own proud and chivalrous State will be ornamented and 
adorned with living, speaking and eloquent statutes of 
Washington and Jackson. As their names are to be 
linked together in connection with whatever is virtuous, 
chivalrous and great in the history of the country they 
fought to sustain, it may not be inappropriate that a 
statue be erected to each, and placed side by side in the 
Capitol of the State. Like Washington, Jackson needs 
no monument, so far as the perpetuation of the memory of 
his great deeds are concerned. As long as the 8th of 
January is remembered, he will be heralded as the great- 
est captain of the age in which he lived. V/hile the great 
father of waters continues to roll by the monument to 
be pfented on its bank, bearing upon its ample and ma- 
jestic bosom the wealth of the surrounding country, it 
will murmur his deathless. praise. To use the language 
of another "his fame is eternity, and residence creation." 
Iking "first in war, first in peace and first in the hearts of 
his countrymen," he was second to none in the social re- 
lations of private life. But I shall not dwell upon thos<5 
virtues so admirably illustrated in his character. I wish 
to see erected on yonder hill a magnificent edifice — one 
that will be highly creditable to the State we represent. 
When completed, I am willing to see the statuary forms 



APPENDIX. 177 

of Washington and Jackson within it, as guardian angch 
to preside over the deliberations of future Legislature-? 
for all time to come. And when the madness of party 
shall disturb the harmony so essential to the administra- 
tion of wholesome laws, by these images they may be 
reminded of their councils while living. Let them read 
the prophetic language that is addressed to them, to 
avoid against the baleful effects of party spirit. Among 
the ancients it was a saying that 

""While stands the Coliseum, Rome .shall stand." 

Let this kind of feeling animate our people, and nerve 
their arms to action. Let them resolve that as Ion;; as 
that edifice shall endure, aye, as long as the hill upon 
which it rests shall remain, our country with her ivit^ in- 
stitutions, shall stand, as the proudest monument of hu- 
man wisdom. And let them constantly bear in mind 
that those inestimable privileges which they err-oy under 
the auspices of such institutions, have been transmitted 
of them unimpaired through the instrumentality of 
Washington and Jackson. 

Transatlantic nations may speak in terms derogatory 
to our people and government — they may attempt a de- 
preciation of the merits of our great men, but when an 
impartial verdict shall be rendered, as it will be, it will 
appear that for all the elements of true greatness thero 
are Americans who can honorably compare with those of 
any other country. In saying this I am not ignorant of 
the impression that prevails, that it is irnpo.ssible for the 
United States to produce, in the strict sense of the term, 
genuine statesmen — that her politicians arenumerous, her 
statesmen none — that we cannot point to them in the ci:- 
uUation of our hearts and exclaim, "here stand the 
L 



3 78 APPENDIX, 

choicest spiiitsof their age; the greatest wits, the nobkst 
orators, the wisest poliliciaiis, the most illustrious patri- 
ots. Here they stand, whose hands have been raised 
lor their country, whose magical eloquence has shook 
the spheres, whose genius has poured out strains worthy 
the inspiration of the gods, whose lives were devoted to 
the purity of their principles, whose memories were be- 
queathed to a race greatful for benefits received irom 
ibeir sufferings and their sacrifices." Such an insinua- 
tion is as illiberal as it is untrue. However invidious 
may be the fault-finders and hypocritical writers of the 
eld world, they are constrained to award to Gen. Jack- 
son a high niche in the temple of renown. With the 
irentleman from Sumner, (Mr. Guild,) it may be said 
that he has emphatically "filled the measure of his coun- 
try's glory," and his name will never die. 

'Rear strong the va-it memorial high, 

That Freedom's future sons may come to bless 

His memory, and breathe new spirits there. 

And at that altar -shrine, like mighty sons 

Of Hanuibai of old, most proudly swear 

.Like him to fight, like him to nobly die. 

The deathless /oes of fading tyranny — 

That down from age to age the truth may live, 

Ilepublics not unyreatful are, and wreaths can weave 

And monuments upraise for patriots true, 

Arising, like their deeds, from commor dust. 

O'er common men, and pointing to the skies, 

To note that, as the atars, they glitter there!" 

His deeds of matchless daring, and hla inflexible devo 
uon to hi^ country, stand like a tower pointing magnifi- 
icutly to Heaven, exciting the envy and admiration of the 
•vv jfido His faults, which no maa can claim exempti-im, it 



APPENDIX. 179 

is hoped, have descended with him to the oblivion of the 
tomb. Peace be to his manes! is the patriot's prayer. 

His resplendent virtues, and he had many, should be 
emblazoned upon the pages of history, and left as a rich 
heritafife to the millions of freemen who are to succeed 
him in all time to come. As the patriot, the soldier and 
sage, full of years and full of honors, has gone down to 
bis grave in peace with the world and his God, let his 
virtues be resurrected — let them coniinue to live in the 
song of the poet and eulogium of the orator. Let inge- 
nuous youths, as they assemble togetlicr around one na- 
tional altar on the annual return of the jubilee of the 
8th of January, herald forth his admirable traits of char- 
acter. They will never cease to emulate those Socratic 
virtues of which he was the representative — that they 
will never forget the obligations they are under to pro- 
mote the cherished interests of their country and advaaot; 
the '-symbols of her triumph" — and that no considera- 
tion of personal aggrandizement will ever be the cause 
of an abandonment of those great and important princi- 
ples for which he fought, is confidently and ardently 
hoped. If there be any thing on earth calculated to dis- 
turb the patriot's repose, and cause his great spirit to 
rise up and condemn it, it is a base and treacherous at- 
tempt to sever this glorious Union. Never, nei^er, may 
our people be so blind and insensible to their interests 
aad the happiness of those who are to succeed them, as 
to consent to have it "rent asunder!'* If our govern- 
ment is ever to be free, prosperous and happy-^if the 
sun of her greatness is not to set in the starless night o£ 
despotism — if our brightest hopes and anticipations arte 
to be realized in reference to the continued security aad 
welfare of our country, our people must be virtuous, en- 



180 APPENDIX. 

lightened and hrave. They should adopt tlie favorit* 
maxim to "ask nothing that is not right, and submit to 
nothing that is wrong." They should watch with dis- 
trust that public servant or diplomatic functionary who 
would consent to an abandonment of one inch of our terri- 
tory where our title is "clear and unquestionable.'* With 
such a determination our country is secure. ^'Estoper- 
petuay*' is written in characters of light upon her desti- 
ny. When the monuments of her glory shall have fall- 
en to decay, her peerless form will still stand up like a 
giantess full of propo/tion, animated with life, and buoy- 
ant with anticipations. But I shall not pause to weave 
visions about the future in reference to the perpetuity of 
our institutions. May the memory of his deeds who 
has reflected a radiance of glory around Tennessee and 
the Union, be eternal! May every youth, like the young 
Carthagenian, swear upon the altar of his country never 
to forsake her, and with the defender of the emporium of 
the west, at all events and under every circumstance, 
"Our Federal Union, limust be preserved." 



A SPEECH 0^ TEMPERANCE, DELIVERED IN 1844, 
IN LAWRENCEBURG. 
Ladies and Gentlemen: — It has been but a week, since 
I had an oppor'unify of addressing you upon the sub- 
ject of Temperance. It gives me much pleasure, upon 
this occasion, to assure you that my opinions in regard 
to Temperance associations, and the amount of good re- 
sulting from them, have not altered or changed in the 
least. The same burning zeal which you have mani- 
fested in this cause, is cherished not only in other parts 
of our State, but throughout the whole Union. I have 



APPENDIX. 181 

vritnessed the exhibitions of this spirit in every place 
where it has been my fortune to visit. People are be- 
ginning to see the imminency of the peril to which they 
are exposed, and are devising means by which the fatal 
blow may be warded off. They have ascertained that 
nothing is more invulnerable to the darts which tempta- 
tion is continually assailing us with, than the impenetra- 
ble shield which the Temperance pledge throws around 
us. With this bulwark around us we can stand secure, 
and bid defiance to the foul monster. The Temperance 
Societies have been productive of much good — that they 
have broken the galling chains under which weeping hu- 
manity has been afflicted — that the morals of the people 
are much improved — that religion, ''pure, unpensioned 
and unstipendary," as it should be, finds an easier ac- 
cess to the human heart — that individual and national 
prosperity is advanced by their potent agency and magi- 
cal influence, no man in his common senses will pretend 
to contradict or deny. The fact stares us too boldly in 
the face for a negation to be raised. One thing is equal- 
ly flagrant and undeniable — that if it does no good, the 
Temperance Society does no harm or injury. If we look 
at it in this light, and we can view it in no other, we can- 
not consistently and conscientiously, I am persuaded, 
raise an objection againot it, though we may not aid in 
supporting it. If we do not intend to be sober, reflect- 
ing men ourselves, we certainly will not envy the same 
in others, when it is in our power to do likewise. If our 
friend in almost hopeless misery, upon the troubled 
waves of life's tempestuous ocean, siezes upon a plank 
or floating mass, by which he can pass securely over the 
lashing and surging billows to the long sought haven of 
rest, will we, though determined to sink by the leaden 



182 APPENDIX. ' 

weights of our own cares, snatch from the resistless 
grasp of that friend the only hope tliat flits across his 
bewildered mind? If we set a resolution not to join the 
Temperance Society, let us use no exertions to prevent 
others doing it. 

I design, gentlemen, to be very plain in the few re- 
marks which I shall submit for your consideration, and 
shall by no means be personal in my casual allusions. — 
I should be very much mortified to think I had wounded 
the feelings of any one of my respected audience, bv a 
reference to such examples necessary, in the course of 
my speech. I believe many have been kept from joining 
us on account of the unmerited abuse we have been in 
the habit of heaping upon the intemperate. We should 
use milder means towards them, and address ourselves 
to their reason — to their judgment. I may use pretty 
strong language myself before I am done, but you will 
please remember that it is the crime and not the man I 
inveigh. The man I respect and admire, but the crime 
I loathe and hate. Although Temperance Societies have 
efiected much to man's social enjoyment, much more 
still remains to be done. Intemperance still stalks with 
a broad front in our midst. Distilleries are still sending 

a 

forth the poisonous liquid. It infects the atmosphere 
around its vicinity, and brings superlative misery and 
wo upon its attendants or visitors. Our Legislature 
would have reflected credit upon itself if it had stoped 
this evil at its fountain head, and stopped up all the ave- 
nues through which it is entailed upon the people. A 
still-house is unquestionably one of the greatest curses 
thas ever befel a community. The first one that ever 
was "erected, was in the flames of hell, and the Devil 
himself was the chief architect — he laid the corner-stoud 



APPENDIX. 1S3 

wkli his impious hands. In hiM the materials are fitly 
framed together, and groweth to an unholy temple in Ms 
Satanic Majesty. His strong-holds must first be broken 
up before we can expect harmony and order pervading 
our country. But there is another wall behind -whic)) 
he has entrenched himself. That wall must also bo de- 
molished. Groceries must stop retailing the malady. — 
It must be considered disreputable to engage in such 
business. I heard an individual say that a grocery - 
keeper was keeping a toll-gate on the turnpike to hell. — 
Public opinion is not yet right upon this subject. It 
should frown down any attempts to establish such dog- 
geries, and if the country is to be entirely purged of 
drunkards, it must do the work. It is the tribunal t« 
which all appeals must be taken. 

It is not my purpose, on the present occasion, to speak 
of the deleterious eflfects of ardent spirits upon the phy- 
eical powers of man, nor do I intend to make a nomen- 
clature of diseases, and hold it up before you. You have 
doubtless been enlightened upon this subject by men 
better calculated to do it justice than mys:elf. Every 
candid, thinking mind unhesitatingly accedes that the 
effects upon the system are deplorable. This being too 
plain and manifest to occasion the shadow of a doubt t<* 
arise, I shall proceed in my simple manner to noiice 
some of the many objections which are daily urged 
against our Temperance Societies. There is a respect- 
able class of citizens amongst us who say they arc 
strong and decided temperance men, but contend thf.i 
we carry the joke entirely too far. They believe in 
Temperance, but can't stand this thing of tetotalism. — 
Temperance Societies, as they were first instituted, an- 
swered a very good purpose at that time, but will not 



■m 

1 84 APPENDIX. 

suit tlie present crisis. Those societies merely opened 
the way for the millenial dawn of total abstinence. 
Thus it was wiQi the colonists when they claimed all the 
rights and immunities of British subjects, but when in- 
dependence was in their grasp, they declared themselves, 
''free, sovereign and independent people." That's the 
tieclaration we wish to make, and we earnestly entreat 
you to lend your aid and influence in entirely throwing 
off. the galling chains which bind us in worse than Brit- 
ish vassalage. If we were not to pursue this plan, and 
tolerate temperate or moderate drinking, where would 
we place the line of demarkation between a temperate 
man and a drunkard? The individual himself must be 
the judge, and if he gets dead drunk, he can say that 
lie has only taken it in moderation. You see then, this 
doctrin won't answer the purpose. 

And just here I make the bold and emphatic declara- 
tion, that every individual who drinks ardent spirits, 
either in moderation or otherwise, is in the strict sense, 
a bona fide drunkard. This is as plain a proposition as 
that things which are equal to the same thing, are equal 
to each other. JMow for the proof. How much of the 
article, let me ask, will it take to make you drunk? Do 
you say a quart? \Vell. Won't a pint do it? You say 
no. V\'ell, but if the first pint won't make you drunk, 
you have acknowledged that the second one will. Well, 
which one of these pints has had the greater agency in 
making you drunk? That is what you don't know. — 
Here then is the unvarnished fact. If a quart will make 
a man drunk, a pint will make him half drunk, half pint 
H fourth drunk, a gill an eighth, and so on. Thus we 
see he is a drunkard, let him take as little as he pleases. 
This is no syllogism, for every drop of the spirits must 



APPENDIX. 



185 



have its effect, otherwise you might take a barrel and 
you would feel no sensations of a toper. 

Some individuals contend that the Temperance Socie- 
ty is useless — that if one can quit drinking after having 
joined it, he can quit without joining it. And how is he 
to do it, but by setting a determination tacitly, that he 
will ever after disuse ardent spirits? Don't we know 
how susceptible we are of yielding to temptations, in 
spite of all our determinations and resolves? We ail 
make the most earnest vows and sacred promises, by the 
tacit consent of our unbridled passions and unhallowed 
inclinations, but break them with perfect indifference. — 
Its our nature to do so. The experience of every one 
who hears me, bears ample, unqualified testimony to 
this fact. We see then, that this objection is futile, and 
founded only for the purpose of occasional dissipation. 
Here, I trust, is another successful refutation of the 
many objections to temperance societies. 

There is another class of individuals who contend that 
the Church is a sufficient Temperance Society. Well, 
6ure enough it is, but do they who profess to belong to 
the church, abstain from all uses of ardent spirits? Of 
late it seems there are as many members of the church 
getting drunk, as any other sort. It is Avith unfeigned 
regret that I say it, but truth must be proclaimed from 
every house-top. Besides this, there are a majority of 
people wdio belong to no church, and I suppose from 
such objections, that they can get drunk with impunity. 
There are no such weighty responsibilities resting upon 
them, which an initiation into religious orders impose, 
and as a matter of course owe no duty at all to society, 
in any of its ramifications. If you will believe me, 
Mr. President, I would rather undertake to convert ten 



1 86 APPENDIX. 

rank infidels to the doctrines of Christianity, than one 
of these long-faced, sanctimonious, orthodox nominal 
christians, "vvho goes about with the Bible under his 
arms, and quotes from it in support of his side, to be 
a warm, thorough-going temperance advocate. There 
would be more probability of my succeeding. I have 
but little confidence in such christians. Their prospects 
for heaven, in my humble opinion, hang upon uncer- 
tainties. The Bible authorises no man to get drunk, — 
It gives an admonitory lesson to all who indulge in 
drinking. **Who hath wo? AVho hath sorrow? Who 
Jtaih contentions? Who hath babbling? Who liath 
■wounds without cause? Who hath redness of eyes? — 
They that tarry long at the wine; they that seek mixed 
wine. Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, 
when it giveth its color in tlie cup, when it moveth itself 
Kright. At the last it biieth like a serpent and stingeth 
like an adder." Some dreadful apprehensions and fear- 
ful omens have been awakened in this matter by those 
who profess to divine future events, especially in regard 
to the tendency of the system which we propose to your 
consideration, and which they oppose. They do not, 1 
am appiehensive, entertain very serious fears upon this 
subject, for we have had no example of like nature in 
the history of the world. And what is it, after all? — 
Why they say, take care, you are upon dangerous pre- 
mises — you are about to unite Church and State. — 
Strange anomaly indeed! Is it the Church of England 
you are alarmed a't? We see christians of all denomi- 
nations meeting in good feeling upon this broad plat- 
form. The embittered animosity that may be exist- 
ing between them ra regard to religious dogmas and 
creeds, entirely disappears. Upon this subject they 



APPENDIX. 1 r>7 

hieet and embrace each other. They are all one in tlii* 
cause. Why the Whigs and Democrats, as much as 
they hate each other, are ail friends when the banner of 
Temperance is placed before them. Are there then any 
exclusive pretensions in this matter? There are none. 
The Temperance opposition can find no subterfuge upon 
this point. Their arguments are their own refutation. 
But there is another very serious objection which con- 
stitutes the most plausible pretext for hostility to our 
cause that has yet been considered. I allude to thope 
gentlemen who are so chary of their inalienable and im- 
prescriptible rights. Who appear to disdain oppression 
in any of its protean forms. Who would not wantonly 
stain with their sacred hands, our country's bright es- 
cutcheon, and whose zeal for her promotion burns with 
untold enthusiasm. WMiat! shall an American citizen 
baselessly and ingloriously sign away his liberties for 
which his progenitors so nobly bled — so nobly died? — - 
Let us not imprecate the memory of the immortal dead, 
whose deeds and enterprises illumine the annals of our 
country. Let us not dim the bright lustre of their char- 
acters, by imputing to them things so disreputable — so 
unworthy. If the invaluable immunity and transcend - 
ant liberty of getting gloriously drunk — if the liberty of 
abusing your family and children, unconscientiously — if 
the liberty of laying in the gutters with your four-footed 
brethren, exposed to the pitiless storms — if the liberty 
of having black eyes and bloody noses — of weak minds 
and debilitated frames be the legacy transmitted to you 
by your forefathers, better, far better had they never 
broken the chains of European thraldom, and handed 
down to you unimpaired this boasted though much 
abused privilege. We have many privileges which we 



183 APPENDIX. 

dare not exercise. What would you think of a man of 
such invidiousness that he would cut off his uose to spite 
his face? And. he has unquestionably the right to do it. 
Is it the part of wisdom to exercise such dangerous pri- 
vileges? The rats had undoubtedly the undeniable 
right to bell the cat, but when they considered the peril 
in doing it, they abandoned the idea. The discharge of 
such a function is fraught, not unfrequently, with the 
most direful calamities. When the serpent has prepared 
to bury its fangs into your person, is it depriving you of 
a very precious liberty, either to bruise its head or force 
you from it, thereby preventing your receiving the ma- 
lignant poison of death? Such is the privation you 
would be likely to endure were you to join the Temper- 
ance Society. We don't want you inconsiderately and 
thoughtlessly to deprive yourself of any of the rights 
and immunities of freemen. Do we propose to do it? — 
Reason tells you no. Outraged and provoked human 
nature tells you no. The cries and waihngs of the op- 
pressed and unfortunate, in tones louder than thunder, 
tell you no. The voice of poverty, and the lamenta- 
tions of the disconsolate tell you no. It is upon this 
principle that Satan acts. He says through the inspired 
pen of the poet, 

"To rule is worih ambition though in Hell; 
Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven." 

Whilst there are many among us who heartily ap- 
prove of our associations of this kind, we find many in 
that category who refuse to join the Society. Some of 
them too, are abstemious, considerate, sober men. And 
what's their objection? Simply that it would be doing 
no good — that they have no influence with others. — 



APPENDIX. 189 

Well, you may say it, but I should dislike very much to 
tell either of you that you have no influence iu the 
world. If I Avere to address myself thus to a man, 1 
should expect him to maul me with his fist, or uncase a 
bowie-knife for my benefit. If to a lady, I should expect 
her to tell me immediately, without a moment's reflec- 
tion, that she has as much influence as I have; or its 
equivolent. Show me an individual that has no influence 
in the world, and I do sincerely pity him. His God 
would not deign to receive him, and the Devil wotild not 
own him. I have too high an opinion of human nature 
to . believe any man is so lost to all the attributes and 
qualities of a man, as to declare, conscientiously, that 
he has no influence over some boon companion or rela- 
tive. I can never persuade myself it is true. Then 
you are obligated to join with us, in order to induce oth- 
ers on the broad highway to do likewise. If you have 
a friend or relative who is inclined to habits of dissipa- 
tion, you are bound b}^ the strongest ties of affection, to 
use your influence to reclaim that friend or relative from 
the snares into wdiich he is rapidly hastening. If a 
friend of ours were placed in' an upper story of a large 
edifice, and the report was given that the building was 
€n fire, and there were no possibility of escape but by 
leaping from a window, we would assemble around the 
place, fix an easy place for him to light upon, with out- 
stretched arms, and al the top of our voices, we would 
entreat him, exhort him, encourage him, to sum up reso- 
lution and save himself, before he is enveloped in the 
broad sheet of fire raging frightfully and terrifically be- 
neath or around him. This would seem to be the natu- 
ral impulse of our feelings, before time would allow us 
Tio reflect upon the most expeditious mode of rescuing or 



1 90 APPENDIX. 

delirering our friend. But here is a case in which all 
the current flow of feeling and sensibility seems to be 
stopped up by cold and careless indifference. And it is 
one in which greater things are periled — greater, infin- 
itely greater interests are involved. He is not only 
placed in an eminently dangerous situation in regard to 
security and protection from injury, but the fires of hell 
are enkindled within his very vitals, which are not only 
extinguishing life, lut destroying the immortal soul. 
This is done, unfortunately, though unpiteously by his 
own suicidal hands. He is the auihor of his own guilt 
and crime. Does it not comport with the character of a 
good citizen, nay, is it not his bounden duty to use his 
best endeavors to reform that man — to wrest from his 
grasp the deadly weapons of his own destruction — to ex- 
tinguish those raging fires which are insiduously and in- 
dubitably effecting his eternal ruin? It is lamentably 
true, that we will see the brightest ornaments of creation 
cloven down and obscured by the consideration of our 
own personal gratification. Some would see the best in- 
terests of society destroyed, and the brightest hopes of 
glory dimmed, before they would discommode themselves 
ma small degree, by abandoning the intoxicating cup 
if it were not counteracting the hiws of Nature, it does 
seem to me ardent spirits would never be used. If it 
were produced in abundance by Nature — if the brooks 
und rills in their course wou^d murmur whiskey — if old 
ocean in her awful grandeur weie v/hi:ikey — if the clouds 
rtbove us were to distil in showers nothing but unadul- 
terated, genuine, bald-face whiskey, what a world would 
we have after a while? What a band of jolly fellows 
we would have? What inhuman crimes would not bo 
perpetrated? We would be like so many tigers eagerly 



APPENDIX. ID I 

watching for our prey. One tiger would come up to his 
brother tiger, and enjoy themselves by howHng, and 
growling, and fighting. All creation would resound 
with the intoxicating anin^ials. The earth upon which 
we tread would deviate from its orbit, and imitate the 
motions of a drunlien man. The sea would disfrorcre it- 
self of its mighty inhabitants, producing a stench that 
would taint the atmosphere by putrifying carcasses. Na- 
ture nevor designed a man sliould drink any thing that 
destroys his [equilibrium. This earth was never intend- 
ed to be inhabited by an order of beings wdio deprive 
themselves of their reason, by indulgence in dissipation, 
if a man drink regularly, though perhaps in strict mod- 
eration, in nine cases out of ten, he will eventually be- 
come a drunkard. It is without question the most dan- 
gerous way he can indulge. Much better if he would 
drink irregularly and to a greater extent at the time. If 
one dram is taken, another must be taken also to keep it 
company, and such repetitions are continued until the in- 
dividual is "seas over." One crime opens the way to 
another. "What harm is there in a pipe," savs one 
friend to another, to which hi^; companion replied, "none 
that I know, except smoking induces drinking — drinkin'/ 
induces intoxication — intoxication induces bile — bile in- 
duces dispepsia — dispepsia induces pulmonary con- 
sumption — pulmonary consumption induces death — put 
that in your pipe and smoke it." Now 1 say nothing de- 
rogatory to the practice of smoking, but merely intend 
i-> declare that one error is a stepping block to another. 
It is useless for men to talk of their power to eommand 
themselves, and not transcend the boundaries of modera- 
tion. I heard an individual not long since, give a narr??,- 
live of bis hfe upon this subject, and although it w.a3 a lit- 



192 APPENDIX. 

tie metpliysical, it contained a good moral. He said, 
amid the allurements and fascinations of pleasure, with 
the gales of unclouded prosperity visiting him, when age, 
with none of its appurtenances, know him, he concluded 
to take a voyage upon life's ruffied waves. With many 
of his youthful corrpanions, he stepped on board the 
ship Indulgence, freighted with Misery, and bound for 
the city of Destruction. It -vvas his purpose to go only 
to the port of Moderation, which was but a short way 
off. The sails were hoisted, the news ''all's well" was 
heard, and the way they went. Every thing appeared 
as tranquil as the unrufHed surface of the silver lake. — 
No demon raised its black and terrific form before him. 
The smiles of Heaven pla3''ed disportingly around the 
gallant vessel. His eyes became fastened upon objects 
on the way, and his ears were saluted by the syren song 
of pleasure. He never looks to calculate the distance he 
has passed; 'nor does he keep a look-out for the place of 
his destination. Directly he is informed by some kind 
and affectionate friend that he has long since passed it 
by. He is surprised at the intelligence, but promises 
most faithfully to stop a short distance below, at a place 
called "Just Enough." Unconscious of the actelerated 
velocity he has acquired, he passes that in the rear also. 
He passes a httle farther' down the stream of hfe, and 
comes to a little village called Hiccough town, but he 
stops not there. Still onward is his course. The waves 
of trouble begin to dash furiously against his once peace- 
ful mind. Their undulations, liowever, did not suffi- 
ciently alarm him. In a few brief moments he finds 
himself at Puke City, whose streets are filth and mud. — 
He tarries here but a short time, visiting only the most 
prominent parts — such as Red-nose, and Red-eye street. 



APPENorx. 1 93 

and Skin-sliln alley — to say nothing of Empty-purs^c 
lane, and the bye ways to Poverty, which are innumera- 
ble. But few more sands of the hour are exhausted till 
he finds himself at Drunkard's Island. The City of De- 
■struction is in sight— he pauses to think, ihe waves bear- 
ing him rapidly to its harbor. He begins to look around 
him and to view his position. The most of his compan- 
ions with whom he set out on life's morning march have 
perished. He is led to ask himself the question, *'\Yhat 
shall I do to be saved." He raises his eyes and be- 
•holds the City of Refuge a short distance off, whose 
walls are massy gold— -whose streets sparkle with dia- 
monds — whose temples are dedicated to wisdom. Upon 
the loftiest summit thereabouts are seen its peaceful in- 
liabitants — the members of the Temperance reformation 
— with their arms extended, their voices tuned to their 
highest note. They warn him of his danger, and ex- 
hort him to fly to them for safety. Although he was 
becoming callous and indiiTerent, by their importunate 
entreaties he leaps over-board the evil bound vessel — * 
takes a "cold-water" shoot, and is felicitously, fortu- 
nately reclaimed. If there be one unfortunate individ- 
ual who has visited these places, I will admonish hin'i 
to stop! for grim death is before him. As one disinter- 
ested, I would invite him, by a regard for his standing 
and well-being, to touch not — taste not — handle not. — - 
If the serpent, once entwines its hiddeous folds around 
you, you are gone forever. The fate of Larcoon will 
be stamped upon your destiny. I- have read the fable 
of Circe who was celebrated for her art in magic, and 
whoever drank of her cup was immediately transformed 
into swine. We have a^oison in our midst, which men 
deliberately, and I might say fearlessly take, whieh not 



194 APPK!a>ix. 

OEiy transforms them into beasts, but at tlie same time 
deprives them of their reason. Is there no Ulysses to 
release you, or Physician Hermes to administer to your 
relief? The Temperance Society is the only salutary rem- 
edy. By submitting to its requisitions you are restored to 
your reason, and rescued from the den of infamy and vice. 
Who is there in this free land of America, v/ho can calm- 
jy look at the history of the past, and more especially 
of individual man, and not feel a sense of responsibility 
resting upon him, to remedy, as far as he is able, the mal- 
ady which is striking a fatal blow at the happiness and 
perpetuity of governments, and blasting all the bright 
and glowing anticipations of gifted intelligence? Read 
the baitleof Hastings at which the English were drunk 
when the Normans headed by William, the conquero:^, 
gained a decided victory, and learn a moral from it. — 
Look to the degradation and hopelessness that Ilrt-q 
Leen entailed upon individuals, as it were, by the sedu- 
cing enchantments of wine. See the ingenuous youths 
upon whose characters and reputations are engrafted 
stains which all the waters of Lethe, nor ocean can wash 
out, and say you are not under obligations to aid in 
banishing this evil. Patriotism and humanity revolt at 
such listless dormency. Does any man ask for an evi- 
dence of the utility of such a system as the one which 
we have proposed to your consideration? Can he see 
the good it has done and is still doing, and then ask for 
additional testimony? If the whole host of reformed 
drunkards could be marshaled together in solid col- 
umn, and be permitted to speak at once upon this sub- 
ject, their simultaneous voices would be heard above the 
hoarse muttering thunder, telling in undying accents, tlse 
obligations they owe to the Temperance Society. AvA 



APPENDIX. ]9S 

«ould the affectionate wives and daughters of the land, 
whose husbands and fathers have been rescued from the 
«urse of this damning evil be heard, their voices would 
doubtless go up to heaven sweeter than the music of Da- 
vid's harp upon the troubled bosom of Israel's king, and 
there seal the declaration that Temperance Societies are 
invaluable. The angel smik* that plays innocently upon 
the glowing cheek — the heaven-descending rays of pros- 
perity upon the frugal — and the thanks-givings of the 
pure in heart, which are embalmed in eternal remem- 
brance — all bear conclusive and satisfactory evidence of 
their utility. Who have a better right to speak in this 
matter than the ladies? Not that they have ever dis- 
graced themselves by intemperance, but because they 
have had to endure the vituperacions and abuses of which 
intemperate husbands are generally so unsparing. No 
wonder then, that they have such anxieties in this mat- 
ter. No wonder they have nearly all come quietly into 
ihe fold, and are endeavoring to bring after them the 
other sex. They know full well that they have children 
to raise and train up for usefulness and honor, and that 
unless they are taught the lessons of sobriety in youth, 
the fruits of old age will be misery and crime. Go on 
then, ladies, I beseech you, in this glorious cause. Un- 
fold with your own hands that broad banner which is 
the sheet-anchor of our independence. May heaven 
Mmile upon your efforts, and may heaven be your reward. 
And now, in conclusion, let me exhort you, gentlemen, 
by the sacred obligations which are resting on you — by 
a regard for your own eternal happiness— by a debt 
which you owe to your country and your God* suspend 
your course in dissipation and be men, and christian men. 
This would be mj advice to you, though it was the last 



19^ APPENDIX. 

word I Iiad to say. I can have no design in tlie world 
to deceive you. I am prompted by disinterestedness 
entirely in addressing you. May you not feel yourselves 
disinterested in your actions upon this subject in regard 
to your own welfare. Make up your determination 
speedily, and act according to the dictates of your dis- 
passionate judgments. Remember that delays are often 
dangerous. When Capua was taken, the walls of Car- 
thage trembled. The way to do is to "try all things, 
and hold fast that which is good." The influence of 
example is great and salutary. Enlist yourselves among 
BS, and let us continue to battle against the foe to hu- 
man happiness. Our rulers are beginning to help us, 
and we may receive encouragement from it, I observ- 
ed in some of the newspaper prints, a few days since, 
that the Legislature of New York, at its last sitting, 
formed a Temperance Society for the benefit of its own 
members. If our own State Legislature would only imi- 
tate their example, I have no doubt but they would 
kave shorter sessions, and pass 6e«er laws for the people. 



AN ESSAy ON THE MIND. 
A great deal has been said and written about the mind; 
its faculties and developments: but it has not been as- 
certained, as far as our information will permit us to 
judge, at what period its mightiest energies mature. — 
From the fact of some intellects developing sooner than 
others, we would infer that this question never will be 
settled definitely. Some minds expand to the fullest lim- 
its in youth, whilst others, under the same kind of cul- 
ture, are not equally vigorous at a more advanced age. 
Why this is the case, men of intelligence have not yet 



APPENDIX. 197 

agreed. It is generally conceded, however, that be- 
tween the age of twenty-five and thirty, (the precise 
time not being stated) the mind will be as stong as it 
will be ever after, and a period beyond this might be 
fixed upon with a degree of certainty. There have been 
precocious geniuses in the world who attracted consid- 
erable notoriety, and gained merited applause on account 
of the attainments they had made long before they had 
laid aside the toga of puberty. The Muses were glad- 
dened at the effusions of Pollock and Kirk White, who 
seemed to have been destined by nature to enjoy an en- 
viable pre-eminence among the literary characters of the 
world, but their sun went down while it was yet day. 
Early death seems to be the fate of those who make a 
brilliant display upon the theatre of life while very young. 
It is a remarkable fact, that those early geniuses whose 
productions have been preserved, and of whose charac- 
ters history gives an account, and who have lived to an 
old age, seldom ever surpass their first eflforts. This 
may not be universally true, but it is confirmed in many 
characters of whose writings we are familiar. That 
Pollock, had he lived until he was three-score years and 
ten, would never have given to the world a work supe- 
rior to the "Course of Time," I believe is the opinion of 
a great many. In consideration of the many examples 
of like nature, of which our own history abounds, it does 
seem evident that in most cases, that premature geniuses 
are subject unavoidably to premature decay. Destiny 
must accomplish its work. The budding intellect is 
often nipped as it were in the bloom. It decays, droops, 
and dies in the dawning of spring. It ia said that ge- 
nius is celebrated for its peculiarity and excentricity. — 
We find some strange features in the character of every 



1^8 



APPENDIX. 



man of superior ability. It was said of Molanus that-, 
under the influence of a mental hallucination, he was un- 
willing to go along the streets for fear he would be 
picked up by a fowl and swallowed for a barley. These 
are some of the symptoms of genius. It should be a 
matter of great concern, that the mind should be direct- 
ed to its proper and legitimate goal. It appears to be 
true, that a wrong direction has been given to the laud- 
able efforts of the struggling intellect. The first inquiry 
in relation to this matter should be, in what is the indi- 
vidual most likely to succeed? This being ascertained 
satisfactorily, all others should be laid aside. I am not 
one of those agreeing with Quintellian that the same fac- 
ulty of mind which made Germanicus an accomplished 
general, would, with the requisit amount of attention and 
care, have made him an excellent poet or orator. It is 
not denied but that some minds could succeed admira- 
bly in almost any department, but it is not believed that 
he cannot master one thing better, more expeditiously, 
and with greater facility than some other. In a word, 
every man has what is called a genius for a particular 
thing. What we mean to assert is, that Addison had 
more talent for writing than he had for speaking — that 
the Duke of Wellington is better qualified for the camp 
than the Queen's parlor or the House of Commons. — 
This assertion if true, puts at naught the idea advanced 
that the mind is originally a perfect blank — for if 
we reason from this data we would conclude that with 
the same perseverance in the influence of like circumstan- 
ces every man would be equally intelligent, which can- 
not possibly be true. It maybe that our intellect is 
too short to penetrate the obscurity that lingers around 
this subject, but by a parity of reasoning we draw dif- 



APPENDir, I ?9 

ferent conclusions. To believe the American Savage, 
vith the same tuition, could have penetrated the dark re- 
cesses of science like a Newton, and opened a new field 
of discovery and speculation, is to admit things which 
experience and history teach is untrue. Around 
some species of the human race nature has erected an 
impenetrable wall. Their intellectual visions are as short 
and indistinct as the mole that forces its way ihrougk 
the earth. Were they to live a full century, surround- 
ed by all desirable means of improvement, it is not pro- 
bable they would ever make RTiy important advance- 
ments in literary attainments. Where i.s the excellent 
schollar — the correct writer — and popular orator among 
the Africans? When a thousand years, pregnant widi 
advantages and encouragements, shall have passed over 
them, it will be found that they have not made onesingl(^ 
step in the march of mind. One defect is, they don't 
seem to have the will — -the ambition, and zeal to uriie 
them to action. They are too much subject to the in- 
fluences of the grosser passions of our nature. Tiic. 
constant direction of their efforts is downward and not 
upward. They would rather burrow in the earth tlian 
soar heavenward on fancy's eagle pinions. 

Men may speculate at pleasure upon the wisdom which 
Providence displays in all his works, but one thing for- 
ces itself upon us irresistibly: that a portion of the hu- 
man family are destined, eternally, to live in a starless 
night of unproductive ignorance, because they possess 
faculties insusceptible of the smallest degree of improve- 
ment. If this be true, and it bears the seal of plausi- 
bility upon its front, it would seem at first blush, that 
iron-handed fatalism had fastened its grasp firmly and 
steadfastly upon the destiny of those who claim to be 



^00 APPEIS'DIX,. 

endowed, in some degree, with a moity of tliat ratibnali- 
ty which characterises intellectual intelligences from those 
destitute of mind. But there are things "w^hich bear the 
semblance of truth, which are flagrant falsehoods. The- 
designs of the Deity may be impugned, like those of man» 
without any just reason or complaint. It is enough 
for man to know., that his duty requires him to make all 
the improvement of which he is able, whatever be the 
restraints and incumbrances, and then he will have dis- 
charged his whole duty, to himself and his Creator. 



A^f ESSAY OIT THE COMPARATIYE HAPPINESS OP 
INTELLIGENT AND BARB AROVS NATIONS. 

Much has been written and said about the comparative 
happiness of civilised and barbarous nations, but so far 
from settling the dispute upon this subject, it is involved 
m still greater obscurity. In all probability this ques~- 
tion will never be settled — the learned and great hav^e 
not been reluctant in expressing their convictions in fa- 
vor of both positions. Among the variety of topics for 
speculation, none afford more ample scope than this. If 
the question could be decided, no very great conquest 
would be gained, nor would the species of the human 
race be much benefitted or edified by it. 

The most plausible opinion, at first glance, would seem 
to be, that in proportion to the intelligence, is the happi- 
ness enjoyed — that importunities, bickerings, and strife 
recede before the lights of learning and wisdom, and that 
objects of smaller concern are forgotten in consequence 
of the mind being absorbed in subjects of greater magni- 
tude, and of necessity deeper interest — that the higher 
order of intellects are capacitated to. enjoy b, higher de* 



APPENDIX. 20 1 

gree of felicity, by this assumption,, than the less inform- 
ed. If this were invariably true, a larger proportion of 
the human race would be destitute of the means of hap- 
piness — their doleful lamentations would burthen the 
winds with sighs, and the fair surface of the globe filled 
with thorns of misery. In short, this Eden would be 
converted into a Pandemonium — and the residence o^f 
peaceful man into the habitations of the damned: for the 
the larger portion of mankind are ignorant and illiterate. 
If the position be correct, more attention would be paid 
to the improvement of the sciences and arts — to the ex- 
altation of human nature by means of such improve- 
ments, and the dissemination of truth, which renders hu- 
man, nature dignified — for all mankind should follow 
those paths in which there are no thorns, and in which 
are found the greater amount of uninterrupted happi- 
ness. 

But it is generally believed that mankind are more fre- 
quently instruments of their own misfortunes than happi- 
ness. This would seem to militate against our thesis. 
It does not, however, involve its correctness, for excep- 
tions are found to all rules — it would not be a fair as- 
sumption to take a few isolated examples in confirmation 
of this theory. It is not absurd to say that the more in- 
telligence aman possesses the greater are his obligations, 
and vice versa— following the rule inversely, that **where 
little is given, little will be required." 

Mr. Maddin, in his infirmities of Genius, has given the 
characters of several men of eminence, before w^hcse 
miiid's eyes appeared gorgeous visions and apparitions, 
which created sensations of fear and of their having incur- 
red the displeasure of their God. Cowper was a genius of 
Misdescription. Happiness had entirely forsaken his habi- 



202 APPENDIX. 

tations. Pleasure, with its fascinations, ceased to linger 
p.round him. Hope did not spring exultingly in his bo- 
som, and these rendered his hfe a burthen to him. This 
example does not corroborate our theory, only so far as it 
shows how insusceptible men of learning generally are of 
the highest and sublimest enjoyments of life. It often 
blasts their reputations — it grieves them to see others ap- 
parantlyin higher enjoyments than themselves. It was 
this reflection that brought heaviness and gloom upon the 
mind of Rasselas (one of Johnson's characters.) He be- 
held the beasts of the field more felicitous than himself. 
Clouds of grief hung thick around him — envy seized hh 
heart and cloyed the vernal joys of life. But to revers'^ 
the picture, a quite different aspect is presented us. We 
behold pure, unadulterated, extatic ha])piness smiling 
around the abode of every man in ordinary circumstan- 
ces. There peace uninterrupted reigns — there discord 
,and contention seldom enter. 

"The fond soul, 
Wrapp'd in gay visions of unreal bliss, 
Still paints the illusive form," 

is not applicable to his situation. The Savage life is the 
most happy, judging from external circumstances. The 
red man of the forest pursues such game as the country 
affords, and is salistied. His bows and implements of 
sport are objects affording him exquisite amusement. 
He asks not for wealth and honors — but security in soli- 
tude. On public occasions these children of nature as- 
semble together, animated with the prospective amuse- 
ments which are to characterize the day. Unhallowed 
desires find no harbor in their bosoms. They celebrate 
the convival meeting with a rustic dance, and disperse in 
good humor. 



APPENDIX. 20. ^ 

Such a state of happiness the civilized commimity has 
never enjoyed: although civilized man would be unwil- 
ling to exchange his lot for that of the savage — the savage 
would be unwilling to make the exchange himself. 

Alexander was not satisfied with the wealth and emol- 
uments of a whole world, and Diogenes was content with 
the circumscribed limits of his tub. What induced this 
conqueror of the world to exclaim, "Were I not Alex* 
ander I would be Diogenes! It was the consciousness of 
his own misery when compared to the pleasures of Dio- 
genes. 

Upon the whole, I am rather inclined to the opinion 
that the more ignorant the man is the more happiness he 
enjoys: and on the contrary, that a man is better prepar- 
ed to enjoy such happiness when his mental faculties are 
enlarged and expanded I will admit; but how often does 
he abuse it and heap ruin upon his own head. Sur- 
rounded as they were by all the glories of a Paradise, 
and instructed by the voice of the Deity, without having 
dreamed of bringing death into our world with all its 
woe, our First Parents were not contented — the tree of 
knowledge tempted them, and they ate of ^the forbidden 
fruit, and fell from their primeval simplicity and purity. 
And thus it is the world over. When a man is capable 
of enjoying himself he is not satisfied, and his change* 
are always for the worse. 

AI!T ESSAY ON" THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 
Upon no subject, probably within the range of human 
speculation has there been a greater diversity of opinion 
than the immortality of the soul. Some absolutely denv 
that there is such a thing. The doctrine of the immor- 
tality of the soul is not confined to the period of modern 



204 APPENDIX. 

disputation alone, but it was strongly and ably advo- 
cated by ancient Sages and Philosophers, whose eyes 
never caught the light which the volume of Divine In» 
spiration has since spread over the world. This doctrine 
breathed from the inspired pen of Plato — it shed a hal- 
lowed light around the prison of Socrates — and it found 
an able defender in the person of the immortal Cicero. 
Minds that never read the sublime strains of Isaiah were 
convinced by the infallible evidences of human nature, 
and the demonstrations of science, that the grave did not 
complete their existence. It was the received notion 
that the soul had to cross the river Styx before it en- 
tered the abode of the blessed. The doctrine of metemp- 
sychosis propogated by the celebrated philosopher of 
Samos, discloses his belief, and that of the age generally, 
in which he flourished upon this point. The descent of 
Aleneas into the Infernal regions corroborates the same. 
But as the Christian Religion advances, this doctrine is 
more universally embraced, for upon this is it based. — 
How pleasing is the thought that our eternal existence 
does not terminate with this life; that our conditions 
will be generally improved, and that we will receive new 
accessions of happiness in every change, still approach- 
ing the [perfections of the Deity? How it immeasura- 
bly expands the soul, exalts the mind, and incompara- 
bly magnifies our feelings and senses? The thought of 
death spreads a pall of gloom around us, and damps our 
spirits. But when we are convinced that the dead shall 
be raised again in newness of life — that that "which is 
sown in corruption shall l)e raised in incorruption — that 
which is sown in dishonor is raised in glory: in weakness 
raised in power — and that which is sown a natural body 
will be raised a spiritual body," our mourning is changed 



APPENDIX. ^ 

into superlative joy. What consolation can we lay to 
our bosom of the doctrine of Annihilationism be true? 
Upon what smoothe surface could we paint our objects 
of delight? Upon what beacon could our eyes rest, that, 
would not soon be extinguished like a flickering taper? 
What desolate path would noble deeds and virtuous ac- 
tions irradiate? In such belief is found 

"Ko light; but rather darkness visible 
Served only to discover sights of woe, 
Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 
And rest can never dwell." 

Take away from man the hope of future enjoyments, and 
you virtually take from him every thing life is worth living 
for; you thereby stop up the fountain of bliss which flows 
from the throne of God to his creature man. Darkness 
would be his habitation on earth, and nonentity his por- 
tion when compelled to leave it. Upon this subject Ci- 
cero has expressed himself thus. *'If I am wrong in 
believing that the souls of men are immortal, I please 
myself in my mistake; nor while I live will I ever choose 
that this opinion, with which I am so much delighted, 
should be wrested from me. But if, at death, I am to 
be annihilated, as some minute philosophers suppose, I 
am not afraid lest those wise men, when extinct too, 
should laugh at my error." 

Apart from the lights of Revelation upon this subject, 
we are constrained by the dictates of reason and com- 
mon sense to believe it. Annihilationism does not com- 
port with the character, wisdom, and attributes of the 
Deity. It literally puts at naught the design of the 
Great Architect and Ruler of the Universe. It under- 
mines the cardinal principles of the christian religion. — 
Jor if the soul be not immortal, I would not give a fig 



"206 APPENDIX. 

for the advantages of a Revelation. The loftiest aspi- 
rations of genius, the playful excursions of fancy, the 
unweaning desire of posthumous renown, the upspring- 
mo- of elastic hope, the inward consciousness of good or 
bad actions, and the vaultings of a proud ambition af- 
ford ample indications of the existence of a principle 
that will never die. 

"Whence springs this pleasing hope, this fond desire. 
This longing after immortality? 
Or, whence tliis secret dread, and inward horror, 
. Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul 
Back on herself, and startles at destructiont" 

has been asked by a man of high reputation, and in^an- 
*wer to his own question, solves the problem thus, 

*' 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us." 

If death ends our existence, for what were we erected? 
Does man Hve merely to die? If so, what good has he 
accomplished by his death? Does a thirst for knowledge 
in its various departments — the certaijity with which the 
revolutions of heav<?nly bodies have been computed — the 
celerity with which the ocean is fathomed and measured 
in search of the gems ot priceless love, and the cupidity 
■with which a discovery is siezed and communicated to 
the enlightened world, bear no evidence of man's im- 
mortal principles? Why erect those cloud-capt pyre- 
mids, those mausoleums and monumental piles. Those 
iiiHu-nificent depositories of the immortal dead? Isitto 
perpetuate any event, or preserve in hallowed recollection 
ihe deeds and exploits of a favorite individual? What 
cares he for an honorable name to leave behind him if 
he ia to sleep forever in the dark shades of oblivious 



APPENDIX. 207 

flight? Whj leave a memorial of his greatness behind 
bim? 

"Who remembers not an hour of serious ecstasy "when, 
p-jrhaps, as be lay beneatli some old tree and gazed on 
ihe setting sun, earth seemed a visionary thing, the glo- 
ries of immortality were half revealed, and the first notes 
of universal harmony whispered to his soul? some mo 
rnent, when he seemed almost to realize the eternal, and 
could have been well contented to yield up his mortal 
being? some little space, populous of high thoughts, and 
disinterested resolves — some touch upon that "line of 
limitless desires" along which he shall live in a purer 
sphere? [UnSnished.] 



AX ESSAY OX THE CHARACTER OF MARTIN LU- 
THER. 
With the Great Lutheran lieforraation beg an anera in 
the world's hisior}^ rendered memorable by the triumph 
<3i truth and liberal opinions. Anterior to its commence- 
ment, all Europe was in a state of indescribable commo- 
tion. The clergy had usurped the civil authority, and 
fastened upon the people a spiritual Despotism. The ele- 
ments of society were corrupt. Deluded by the liever- 
end Doctors of the Church, the people were made to be- 
iieve that by a liberal contribution to the ecclesiastical 
treasury, the souls of departed friends and relatives 
uould be released from purgatory, and wing their flight 
X:i heaven. If they cherished a parsimonious spirit, the 
souls of their loved ones would remain forever in the re- 
gions of ihe damned. This was the condition of Europe 
at the time that Luther appeared. Contrary to the wish 
of parents he entered the convent, and adhered devoutly 



203 APPENDIX. 

to the Christian faith. He found his way into some li- 
brary and discovered a book called the Bible. He open- 
ed it, and with many inconveniences he was finally en- 
abled to read it. A flood of light bursted immediately 
across his understanding. He there hiculcated the truth, 
that Religion could be obtained without money and with- 
out price. The seeds of corruption had ripened — the 
valcano was ready to burst. It was for Luther to con- 
trive the safety-valves, and to still the elements in the 
end. Jn the language of a modern critic, "he came forth 
on the theatre of life another Sampson Agonistes, **with 
plain heroic magnitude of mind, and celestial vigor arm- 
ed," ready to wage an unequal combat wuth the haugh- 
tiest of the giants of Gath; or to shake down, though it 
were on his own bead, the columns of the proudest of her 
temples. He possessed no advantages resulting from a 
^nished education; but he had a lion heart that knew no 
fear. It was not his purpose to overthrow the Church, 
nor to secede from it: his object was to correct its abuses. 
He openly and fearlessly met the learned Doctors of the 
Church in debate — refused to retract a single expression 
he had ever said or written, until he was convinced by de- 
monstrative evidence that he had not truth for his sup- 
port. They did not attempt to reason with him from scrip- 
tural data, for they were conscious they were in error— 
but by threats and demonstrations tried to awe him to 
submissiveness. This was an iaefiPectual way to induce 
such a man as Luther to renounce what he conceived to 
be true. 

This was not a plausible course for those to pursue, 
whose object was to silence uispuie. If men who hold 
to certain doctrines are satisfied they are in the right, 
they will fearlessly accept any challenge of investigatioD 



APPENDIX. 203 

that may be offered. But unless they show by the un- 
erring indications exhibited in their actions, that their 
cause has the semblance of truth, however credulous the 
adverse party may be, in many respects, they are never- 
theless confirmed in the truthfulness of their own cause, 
and satisfied of weakness of their antagonist. Had the 
Cathohcs been willing to correct all flagrant abuses and 
corruptions existing— and they were certainly numerous— 
U they were actuated by that spirit which Christianity 
breathes — it is not known what might have been the 
eondiiion of the world at this day relative to its kind of 
relimon. When we consider for a moment the Greai 
R-eformer, sui rounded by those who threatened his de- 
destruction, and denounced him as a heretic, and that he 
voluntarily left AVittenburg, where he had a few adher- 
ents, Melancthon in their number, and went solitary and 
nlone into a place in which he could expect no mercy 
from man, and after facing these dangers with an iron 
heart and trusting confidence in the Author of his faith, 
appearing before those who were to be his judges, with 
what feelings of deepest admiration for the man are we 
inspired? How magnanimous and yet how humble h 
his conduct? They imperiously, dogmatically and su- 
percilliously command him to retract what he had pre- 
viously said and written. He asks for an evidence of his 
having written or said anything that derogates from the 
character of the christian religion as revealed in the Bi- 
ble. They again threaten and remonstrate, but truth is 
€ver the same. With no other shield but this, he stands 
in their midst, nobly defying and begging them to meet 
hiBi in a theological disputation. Tetzel's thunders were 
heard, but to no effect. His blows were warded off wi^h 



t\0 A'BPENDIZ* 

admirable skill by Luther, who, but a man, was a giani 
when armed with truth. 

If any thing of nobleness is attached to the hero of a 
romance, how doubly is it the case in Martin Luther, a 
real person divested of ficticious exaggeration, and who 
performed feats surpassed in intrepidity by no doughty 
kniijht known in the imaginations of men? 

At this remarkable period, a spark was enkindled: 
which now illumines millions of minds, otherwise doomed 
to be unknown to fame. By a remarkable coincidence, it 
has been said, Luther on the fourth of July, in a public 
disputation with his Popish antagonist at Leipsic, first 
called in question the divine right of the Pope. 

That the spirit of free inquiry may continue to be un- 
restricted, and that evil may always find in some Modera 
Luther, a firm and uncompromising enemy, cannot, I am 
conviaced, be too ardently hoped. 



;ESSAY ON" THE CAPACITY OF THE PEOPLE FOR SELF 
GOVERNMENT. 
Our subject for the deliberation of the day is one 
which, as I conceive, requires but little argument. — 
AYe are asked, are the people capable of self-government? 
1 maintain that they are. Experience says they are. — 
History, though prolific with a delineation of fallen em- 
pires — of smoking ruins — of delapidated Cities — of mall 
administrations of government, tells us that agovernment 
solely in the hands of the people en masse is more likely 
to endure. When is a safer depository of power than in 
the hands of the sovereign people? Is it because they 
sre ignorant, that they are incapable of self-government? 
If so, it is easy to find a remedy. Educate the peop'e 



APPENDIX. 211 

and they will evince to the world that they have minds 
that direct their decisions, and hearts that influence their 
motives. The bloody annals of the past have been spread 
out before us, presenting^ to the contemplative mind scenes 
terrific, and marches and countermarches, of Revolutions, 
of bloody battles, of '*Gorgons and Chimeras dire," and 
of the instability of human institutions. Greece the 
cradle of the sciences and the arts, has been an exhaust- 
less them.e for the speculations of the philosopher and the 
declamation of the orator. Have they in general learned 
a moral from her picture? As prima facie evidence that 
man is incapable of self-government, we are told her in- 
stitutions were founded upon the will of the sovereign 
people, and their wisdom was not sufficient to preserve 
even the very edifice which they themselves had been 
instrumental in creating. But let us calmly and dispas- 
sionately ask, was that nation of people ever free? Were 
they not slaves and mercenaries, whose good fortune 
had not been to be rich? Whilst they had freedom with- 
in the walls that surrounded them, their own brethren 
without were submitting to the galling yoke of oppres- 
sion. Is it not so? History responds affirmatively. — 
What a Greek would call freedom, an American would 
eall slavery. An opinion has prevailed, and has received 
the hearty sanction of the learned and great, that reli- 
gion and freedom go hand in hand. Were the Greeks a 
religious people? Look at her brazen altars — the temples 
of her Gods— her marble monuments — her superstitious 
notions, and every thing derogatory to Christianity. In 
the sublime conceptions of the deity they were heathens. 
Then we conclude they were never free — consequently 
never permitted to act and think for themselves. The rea- 
^n they were incapable of self government is conclusive. 



tVZ APPENDIX. 

They were kept back in the dark. It was so at a still 
later period, even down to the 18th century, in almost 
every nation of Europe. They tacitly submitted to the re- 
scripts and edicts of the Pope. Not one feebly, sickly ray 
of celestial light from the hallowed regions of Parnas- 
sus was permitted to dawn upon their understandings. 
They were kept in ignorance and barbarism, and a peo- 
ple unenlightened by the discoveries of science and in- 
Yentions of art — unedified by the history of the past, 
which would have enabled them to prognosticate the fu- 
ture — untutored in lessons of moral instructions and re- 
ligion, can never act with discretion. The Pope of Rome 
is not ignorant of this, and uses all his influence to keep 
the people from open day. We should never take the 
history of a nation of people who were emersed in ig- 
norance and confined in darkness, and draw a conclusiou 
from the fate of that people, that other nations whose 
ininds are cultivated by the plowshare of knowledge, 
whose manners are civilized, whose hearts are influenced 
by the principles which the Bible inculcates, and who^ 
iron-hearted valor enables them to stand firm by their 
proud eagle and their glorious constitution will inevitably 
share the same fate. Enlightened with knowledge, people 
become giants, they burst the chains which bind them to 
the dust, and a flashing tprrent of celestial day bursts 
through the shadowy void which ignorance had created. 
They are now prepared to act for themselves. They, no 
more like serfs, follow the charriot wheels of some dar- 
ring military chieftain to the field of conquest and desso- 
lation. But the question as propounded to us, does not 
confine us to the capacities the people have to regulate 
finances, make and abolish laws, and other correlative 
terms. We are inquiring ar« the people capable of »<?k' 



APPEHDfX. g 1 3 

government? Self preservation is the first law of Na- 
ture. But we will not do the gentlemen advocating the 
opposite side of this question the injustice to present it 
nnder this distorted appearance, believing that the ques- 
tion was only intended to embrace the capabilities of the 
multitude. If however we can succeed in proving by 
logical principles, that man in all ages of the world is and 
has been fully qualified to preserve, protect and defend 
himself — if this principle be exemplified in the inhabit- 
ants of the arid climes of Africa — if the unlettered sav- 
age, roaming in the solemn primeval forest, where the 
axe of civilization was never heard, embraces all the fa- 
culties which enable him to shelter himself from the pelt- 
ing storm — defend his rights — his home — his country — 
his all — at thehazzard of loosing his life, we can settle the 
question without a doubt, that the people who have made 
themselves intelligent, are alway scompetent to do — to act 
correctly without danger to themselves or their country. 
This is so plain that none pretend to deny it. We are 
taught that union is strength, that it is the palladium 
upon which the dearest interests of society rest. 

Keeping this directly before us, remembering what man 
individually can accomplish unassisted by others, col- 
lecting themselves together from the various parts of the 
world, and entering into a social compact or agreement, 
we are unhesitatingly constrained t© declare that our po- 
sition is true — for union is strength, and a collection or 
society of men, by the aid of their judgments, can un- 
questionably effect more than one man could dream of 
effecting. But more serious considerations invite our at- 
tion. Lafayette speaking in reference to France says, 
"for a nation to be free it is sufficient that she wills it." 
This cannot be controverted or misunderstood . There 



214 APPENDIX. 

must be volition before an acto The people should believa 
they are fully competent to discharge the functions of 
government. This is not a subject difficult of compre- 
hension. It has none of those secret windings of the 
labyrinth by which it is hard to get a ''clew" at it — none 
of those enigmas which puzzle the mind to unriddle. 
"Government," says Swift, **is a plain thing, and fitted 
tothe capacity of many heads." Altho' every individual 
is not expected to make this his study, there are enough 
in all governments who qualify themselves for it, and who 
advocate its measures. Because we are not all preach- 
ers it is no reason that we cannot be christians. Because 
all are not professedly financiers and practical statesmen, 
we are not to infer that the people are ignorant of what 
is their interest and enjoyment. Few such geniuses as 
Milton and Shakspeare have ever lived, but we cannot 
say the world has no taste for poetry, and no genius to 
write it. Though they may not be able to write any thing 
equal to them, they know well enough what it takes to 
constitute a poet, and when his writings and verses are 
defective. Though we are not all statesmen, we know- 
when the wheels of government are clogged, and every 
patriot is found exerting his power to regulate them. — 
Government has been considered by many, especially 
those opposed to republican principles, as a mere experi- 
mental machine, that no sooner has the experiment been 
made a change is suggested, and 'change is not reform, 
and the freedom which that administratiop of govern- 
ment afforded would be entombed never to be resusci- 
tated or reanimated. If it perish, the wisdom or folly 
which framed it must perish also. But who is it that 
are instrumental in effecting these changes which end in 
explosion of public sentiment, which 



APPENDIX. 2 1 i 

''Like bubbles ontlie sea of matter borne, 
Thej rise they break, and to that sea return.'* 

Some designing knave or ranting politician who, prevent- 
ing the people being enlightened by wilholding from their 
eyes the lights of truth, succeeds in enlisting the people 
in his favor, and he proudly tramples up the gorgeous 
ruins. Not because they had not judgment of their 
own, but because they were constrained to go for the 
measure right wor rong. They were not induced to sus- 
tain those measures from choice or desire. In short, they 
had no voice in the matter. Reason was offered them, 
but net with winning v/ords they conquered willing hearts, 
and made persuasion do the wotk of fear. We are too 
apt to be blinded and deceived by names. We are not 
infrequently told the people are the sovereign rulers, 
when they have no direct voice in the matter. England, 
for instance, may have so considered herself in the time 
of Oliver Cromwell. The parliament which had been 
so omnipotent, refused to act in accordance with the wish- 
es of Cromwell, and with speedy vengeance and vindic- 
tive spleen, he desolved the long Rump Parliament. — 
And yet it is said the people had a voice in the matter, 
but like Stentor, his voice thundered louder than all. It 
is so in other instances. The people are said to be govern- 
ors, when they themselves are ruled as with a rod of iron. 
And because the government is either destroyed or cor- 
rupted, it is inferred the people are incapable of self gov- 
ernment. We should lay aside such false reasoning. — 
Let us take a nation for example, where the people are, 
in truth and in fact, the rulers; where no dread deters 
them from an open, honest, sacred, discharge of their 
imperative duty. We may look abroad to other nations 
but they are still in ignorance. Its Cimmerian mantle 



§ 1 6 APPENDIX. 

is thrown over them, and some protubercnt Teneriffe has 
intercepted the rays of moral, religious light, that Avas 
about to dawn upon their minds. No rain-bow of 
promise is painted on the dark clouds of their destiny; 
for their hands are yet lied. Spain has no voice in the 
matter, and silence broods over her domain. Ireland is not 
heard, for she too is tongue-tied. Italy is mute. South 
America has sealed her lips hermetically. France, like a 
ghost, does not speak at all. England has been stam- 
mering and throwing out her parrot-articulation, but she 
is not understood. Our own country, with her eagle 
glory — her unrivalled freedom and independence — her 
enlightened citizens and patriotic warriors — her orators, 
statesmen and divines — her commerce and her manufac- 
tures — her Literary Institutions, like our own lovers of 
wisdom, alone has a voice in this great decision. We 
heard her first signal at Lexington — we heard her groan- 
ing at Camden, and then cheering at the top of her voice 
— -triumphant cheers proceed from the plains of Sarato- 
ga — thundering shouts of triumph and victory passed 
along her lines at Trenton, and ceased not to be heard at 
Yorktown. 'Twas the people who rose in the majesty 
of their strength, "and asserted to the world they would 
be free, and struck the blow that gave her liberty. 



ESSAY ON WESTERN LITERATURE. 
More has been done within the last half century to- 
wards the dissem/mation of useful knowledg among the 
people, than the most sanguine could have anticipated, 
in view of the period just preceding it. The stimulants 
to enterprise which are incident to a nation where knowl- 
edge, like virtue, have has its own reward, contribute ea» 



APPENDIX. 217 

ientlally to the advancement of the cause of letters. It 
is because of an honorable competition between hopeful 
aspirants to distinction and renown. It results from the 
fact that no empire, save that of the mind^ is recognised; 
and over this the assiduous and untiring are generally 
the sole monarchs. The marvelous and astonishing in^ 
rentions of the age attest, in part, a high degree of en- 
lightenment of public sentiment. 

Improvements in the mechanic arts are marching on- 
ward with a pace hitherto unequHllcd in our history — the 
most distant parts of our country have, in a manner, been 
rendered contiguous by the unparalleled rapidity of con- 
veyance and communication, which unites the citizen of 
the frozen north with the citizen of the sunny south, in a 
community of feeling and interest — preparations for war, 
offensive and defensive, are being made in accordance 
with the injunction left us by the Father of his country, 
which places the United States in an independent atti- 
tude to the belligerant powers of the world — facilities for 
development of mind, the home of the Deity, are daily 
enlarging and extending alike to the rich and the poor — 
the majesty of the American Laws and Institutions is re- 
spected and acknowledged throughout our limits — and 
a Commerce freighted with the richest pi oducts of a vir- 
gin soil, spreads her sails upon every ocean. All these 
conspire to render this country eminently and unques- 
tionably superior to any other, as they are conducive to 
a freedom of thought and independence of character, the 
exercises of which are measurably forbidden in the mon- 
archies of the Old World. Although much may be said 
in commendation of the wholesome influence of our GoV" 
ernment, and the innumerable ad/anlages which spring 
up spontaneously on every hand, to elevate and dignify 



J9i# APPENDIX. 

the American character, it cannot be disguised, that the 
means to effect such desirable ends have been left unem- 
ployed. In short, we are far from having attained an 
Augustan age in our Literature, or even to that state of 
improvement and exaltation that hope had pictured. — 
What then are the influences v/hich have contributed 
to retard the march of mind? What Burkley has at- 
tempted to check its progress by boisterously declaring 
that "learning has brought disobedience, and heresy, 
and sects into the world, and printing has divulged them, 
and libels against the best Government?" Ti^e ques- 
tion is easily settled, if we regard the signsof the times as 
the true index. There may be various causes, or combina- 
tion of causes, which have a salutary effect in stopping 
the onward, progressive movements that have been go- 
ing on in the intellectual world. But no one thing of 
which we are acquainted, has had a greater agency and 
jmore powerful influence in producing such a result, than 
that almost universally prevalent rage of utilitarianism 
which has enlisted in its favor too many idolatrous vota- 
ries. A spirit of economy cannot receive too great en- 
couragement, if it does not transcend its proper limits in- 
to parsimoniousness. Truly is the love of money the 
root of all evil when applied to the case before us; for 
any thing may be regarded as an evil that contributes, 
though in the smallest degree, to check those means 
which are the prime sourcesof wealth, whilst they incom- 
parably enhance the general happiness, and elevate and 
dignify the human character. To gratify this sorded 
passion, the most imminent perils have been braved. — 
Mankind too generally dream of the gold of Ophir, and 
the invaluable gems in the imaginary regions of El- 
dorado! The riches of Croesus and Astor are of a sjreat- 



APPENDIX. 2 1 9 

«er desideratum than the immortality of Shakspeare and 
Milton. The classic grounds of antiquity, and the hill of 
science fade from memory's tablet when fortune smiles. 
Unlike the historian of Halicarnassus, who visited the 
countries of Greece, Thrace, Scythia, Mesapotamia, Sy- 
ria, and Egypt, in quest of that information which has 
handed his name down to the courts of Prince Posterity, 
to whom Dean Swift has dedicated one of his epistles, few 
are disposed to devote a modicum of their time and tal- 
ents to the advancement of learning unrequited. 

Men of gifted intellects and towering geniuses have 
been induced to forsake the Muse of Poetry, Romance 
and History, to pursue those airy phantoms at which tho 
unlettered world is grasping with the most astonishing 
avidity. Youths whose hopes are bright, and aspira- 
tions lofty, are circumscribed in the sphere of useful- 
ness, by the notion that some parents fondly cherish, that. 
wealth is the only road to distinction. In this opinion 
they not unfrequently neglect the proper mental training 
that is necessary to secure to the son a fair standing in 
society, which obliges him, imperatively, to follow where 
he might have led, and feel his own inferiority where 
he might have ruled. This is in consequence of that 
self-aggrandizing spirit which we have been depreca- 
ting. May we not anticipate a time when a more glo- 
rious era shall illumine our history — when a deeper in- 
terest is aroused among the people upon the subject of 
education — and when the whole country shall smile un- 
der one continual blaze of improvement? By a slight 
reformation in public opinion, which is the great lever 
by which good or evil is produced, and the influence of 
judicious laws, the golden visions of the theorist and en- 
thusiast may be realized. The Eastern part of our 



2^ * APPENDIX. 

country is generally regarded as superior to theWestefK, 
in the facilities of improvement which she aflfords. It is 
because she has a larger population to the extent of ter- 
ritory, and because she has been longer settled. She is 
consequently more able to support literary institutions 
than a country newly settled. But as the older States of 
the Union are becoming crowded by the natural increase 
of oar species, anew tield of enterprise invites them to 
the West. Like De Sota in quest of riches, or like Ju- 
an Ponce de Leon in search of the fabled fountain of per- 
petual youth, they penetrate the bosom of its "solemn, 
primeval forest." The tide of emigration is swelling, and 
rapidly rolling on to the place where its proud waves 
are to be stayed. It may be said with more than poet- 
ical justice that 

"'Westward the star of empire takes its way." 

The wilderness is beginning to blossom as a rose, un- 
der the influence of seasonable cultivation. Magnificent 
edifices of more than Medicean splendor are raising 
their heads in unsullied grandeur to the skies. In this 
auspicious state of things shall the lamp of knowledge, 
that was lit upon the altar of liberty be extinguished? 
Are there no Msecenases to patronize and encourage an 
indio^enous literature? To this end there must needs b« 
a regular system of communication — a mutual, liberal 
interchange of thought among the people, without which 
the general information would unavoidably be very limit- 
ed. The press is the great luminary from which the rays 
of intellectual light are to eminate. As the stars in th« 
firmament effect the night, so do the printing presses ef- 
fect the niffht of io-norance that hano-s over a nation.-— 

o o o 

Shall the West be deprived of one of these stars that 



APPINDIZ. 2? 1 

diffuse light abroad? May a Literary Journal or Reyiew 
not be established in Nashville, that will vie in literarj 
merit with the most extensively circi.lated periodical in 
the Union? There is nothing to prevent it but a want 
of pecuniary means. It is highly discreditable to the 
West that such laudable enterprises have not hitherto met 
with more general encouragement. It is mostly attri- 
buted to that folse-directed zeal, which we have seen, 
transcends all others in the pursuit of its object. It is 
certainly for no want of talent, that wo have not long 
since been edified and delighted by such a journal, for 
we can unpresuraptuously boast of as able writers as 
those who contribute to the Literary Periodicals of the 
East. Such a project in successful operation would mucU 
improve the immorality of the people, to which they have 
a remarkable proclivity, provided it be conducted in that 
way as to deserve the most liberal patronage. The tone 
of its morals should be elevated — lofty — pure. The 
spirit that it breathes should be unbought, unsaleable, 
and uncorrupted patriotism. 



AN ESSAY OK AMBITION". 
There is a passion that rankles in the human breast 
which is highly necessary to enable the individual t© 
meet and overcome difficulties, but supremely pernicious 
if permitted to go unrestrained. It is kn«wn by the 
name of ambition. There are many, it must be remena- 
bered, who are vastly deficient in such a spirit whick 
prompts to manly exertion and laudable enterprises; but 
there are others who rush thoughtlessly and precipitate- 
ly into the most imminent danger, without any prospe*' 
tiv« means of getting out. The absence of it in the on^ 



222 i-PPzyDii. 

is as mncn to be regretted, as the excess in tlie other is 
to be commiseraDed. There is a laieni fire in the bosom 
of some, which we seldom observe unless by very faint 
emissions, or when the subject is agitated by a great 
momentous occasion, the slumbering fire is enkindled and 
glows with unusual fervour. In some we find it over- 
Sawing, and as redundant as the waters of Arethusa. — 
Over their actions it has complete and decided masierv. 
It is a great and powerful incentive to action. It prompts 
to the discharge of duty, and not unfrequentlv to acts of 
snp^erogaiion. The individual forgets the propriety of 
pursuing a course *'in medies rebus,'"' and like the ill- 
fated Icarus, soars too lofty in the presumptuousness of 
enthusiastic youth, and his pinions of waz are melted, and 
his sanguine ardor damped. This runs thoughout our 
whole nature: it insinuates itself into every circumstance 
in life. In some it is the brightest jewel in their char- 
acter: in others it is "like the toad, uglv and venom- 
OU5.** The one we praise: the other we despise. The 
patient enquirer afier truth for its own sake, ehcits our 
approbation, and th&t of every lover of wisdom. His 
aspirations are above the common pursuits of life. He 
dtsires, it is true, to deserve the confidence and esteem 
of mankind, but he is unwilling to pay too extravagant 
a price for it. The approbation of one's conscience is 
really worth more than the applause of men and their 
'fawning sycophancy.' He emulates to excel, not to put 
( tbers down. He wishes to rise, but not on the injured 
reputation of another. Love of country finds an abode 
in Lis affections. The pleasing ambition of defending 
ItCT insulted rights and liberties bums, like ^tna in his 
bosom, though not suffered to burst forth to corrode 
and destroy. Ko promise of exaltation or favor can in- 



APPENDIX. 223 

d'jce him to become recreant to her interest. He be- 
comes her oracle and champion. His voice is heard, 
when necessary, in defence of civil and religious freedom. 
Of such men are the Hampdens, the Sydneys, the Mil- 
tons, the Washingtons and the PVanklins, who contended 
for these principles so earnestly and vehemently, that pos- 
terity rises up and calls them blessed. Those who first 
sowed the seminal principes of Reform, that Nations^ 
might be free, are truly entitled to our gratitude. It 
was for no conceivable pecuniary or e lesiastical distinc- 
tion that induced Luther, the lion of reformation, or as he 
has been more appropriately termed, the "Christian Her- 
cules, the heroic cleanser of the Augean stables of Apos- 
tacy," v/ith his learned friend and coadjutor, Melancthon 
and others, to nullify the edicts of the Pope, and shake 
l^apacy to the centre throughout all Christendom by th<> 
native force of their intellects. They contended for a 
spiritual disenthraldom, and to disrobe the Pope of that 
authority which he had so unconscientiously abused.— 
Nor did they abuse the power which they had gained. — 
They possessed zeal worthy of the men, and as such it 
should be cherished and cultivated. If it is shamefully 
abused, the individual had better never have been born. 
Who can estimate the injury done the world, morally, 
ecclesiastically and politically by the perversion of intel- 
lect? Can it be calculated how much evil has been don« 
by the subtle and insidious talent of Gibbon upon Chris- 
tianity — the incredulity of Hume — the sarcastic and 
venomous sneers of Voltaire — the infidel deism of Kus- 
seau, and the stubborn impiety and low ribaldry of Paine? 
Had their minds been directed towards the proper ob- 
jects, they might justly have been called the benefactora, 
instead of the enemies of mankind. The shock that has 



224 APPEKDIX. 

been given to religion by sucb men will be felt maRj 
days hence. It is hard to eradicate entirely from the 
mind, long existing errors. No truth is more evident than 
that "the evil a man does Hves after him." The intiu- 
«nce of example is great and salutary. It lives after 
the man has passed the cold Jourdan of death. Like 
the setting of the sun in the West, leaving a radianoe 
and lustre behind, the character and disposition of an 
individual will remain after he is dead, and have an in- 
:Suence upon those with whom he lived and associated. 

There is another category of men entitled to but little 
of our gratitude or commendation. If the warrior, eager 
for battle, and animated by a spirit of liberty, perishes 
around her sacred temple, he is engaged in a good cause, 
and we lament his fall. If by his dauntless Herculean 
bravery he protects it from violence, we join in exulta- 
tion, and admire his zeal. But when oceans of blood 
have been shed, and human victims bleed at her shrine 
in resisting oppression — when iron-heeled despotism 
struts through the land, nations weep and tremble. The 
earth we tread is one common battlefield. War is the 
study of the wise, and work of the brave. The conquer- 
or secures his victory and prepares for new conquest. — 
lie slays the last enemy, and weeps for more worlds to 
•onquer. The world seems too little for him, when at 
the same time, a philosopher had **ample room and verge 
enough" in a tub. 

The lion of Carthage whose ambition led him to think 
he could conquer the proud mistress of the world, died 
an ignoble death before he had released himself from hi« 
allegiance. The man of Corsica breathed his last a mis- 
erable exile at St. Helena. Ill-fated ambition destroys 
their aspirations, and most all the conquerors in the aia- 



APPENDIX. 225 

nals of history, who fought for plunder, rapine and power 
in the end, had to submit to, and be contented with ikt 
victory oi Pyrrhas. 

AX ESSAY ON THE CHIVALRY OF TENNESSEE. 
Ever since Tennessee made her advent into the Union 
as a State, her history has been replete with the most il- 
lustrious daring of her citizens. Theie never was a 
time when she failed to contribute her aid in the defence 
of the Union. Invincibility has been written on the es- 
cutcheon of her military renown. Whenever a position 
of the enemy is to be moved, her pennant is always seen 
waving above the breach. In the last war with Great 
Britain, in which she rendered herself signally illustrious, 
she evinced a patriotism and a chivalry which challenges 
the admiration of the v/orld. She met and repelled a 
magnanimous and hitherto invincible soldiery. The 
pride and boast of the British Nation who had defeated 
Kapoleon at the battle of Waterloo, who were led to the 
charge by a brave commander, had to cower before the 
dauntless Tennesseans. Napoleon who waved his victo- 
rious Hag, nearly, throughout all Europe, and who, in 
other words, stretched his subduing «*arm over Egypt 
and the Isles, until Arab and Ethiopia bowed in bondage, 
and the triumphs of Alexander became the trophies of 
the modern Hercules," was signally defeated by the 
Duke of Wellington at the battle of Waterloo. The 
ilower of his army flushed with victory gained over the 
French, led the van at the battle of New Orleans. The 
result of the engagement is well known, Tennessee sol- 
diers, commanded by a Tennessee Genera], rebuked the 
insolence of the invaders in the most summary manner, 
as you well kROW. This gives her a supremacy ovey all 




tt^ ' APPENDIX. 

our citizens, and raise, upon one or two occas.vi^?, tu> 
shout of victory, but like the last song of the swan, it ■will 
be but the premonitor of their early defeat. 

Suppose it were possible upon this occasion that we 
were placed in one vast amphitheatre of Nature, and sup- 
pose that upon consulting about what course to pursue 
in relation to the war, the ghosts of our revolutionary an- 
cestors were to appear in the galleries, where they could 
be spectators of what was said or done? Suppose it pos- 
sible with their gastly looks to participate in our councils, 
what would be their language of admonition andencour- 
agement? The Father of his country would tell us that 
as we had prepared for war in time of peace, to hve inde- 
pendent or sink in the grave; the dauntless Warren, who 
was an early martyr in the cause of human hberty, would 
say as he perished in his youth, let the youth grasp his 
sword for the combat, and cut the gordian knot of oppres- 
sion or perish amid the din of arms. 

Another would exhort us as we love our country and 
her institutions, "don't give up the ship." 

Another who had "filled the measure of his country's 
glory" would tell us now is the golden moment to move; 
to let action be our motto, and "all is safe." Who that 
has the heart of a patriot within his bosom would be in- 
sensible to their admonition? Who would not respond, 
that as he loves his country — as he is proud that he is 
an American citizen, as he reveres the sacred ashes of 
his fathers, he is willing to fight, and if be falls, the cause 
of liberty will not fall with him? 



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